


Remembering Sunday

by creepingrosemary



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Cancer, Homophobia, IwaOi Are Best Friends, M/M, POV First Person, Physical Abuse, Slow Burn, Verbal Abuse, future oisuga, i'm still gonna be adding tags as we go along, little brother hinata, little brother tsukishima, other future rarepairs are gonna be thrown in here at some point, this is gonna be on the darker side, wow what am i even writing anymore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9518102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepingrosemary/pseuds/creepingrosemary
Summary: Tooru wonders if he'll ever see the sun rise from under his father's iron first. Koushi has been treated for almost every illness but still remains in critical condition. Tetsurou struggles to keep custody of his younger brother on small paychecks and instant ramen. Keiji fights to identify himself in a family more focused on rules and regulations.Maybe it's best for anything further to be left unsaid.





	1. Tooru: Spilled Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse.  
> So collapse.  
> Crumble.  
> This is not your destruction.  
> This is your birth.”  
> \- n.t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, who said I'd be back so soon? And with a new fic?
> 
> I know I did, I just like being dramatic. 
> 
> Honestly, I just can't help myself and if I'm not doing _something_ over the school year I go nuts, so.
> 
> Anyway, welcome to the dark recesses of my mind. We are on a completely different spectrum than A Smile to the West and Beyond the Stars which goes to show I shouldn't be given free rein with anything. Mind you, there will be some sweet, fluffy parts. I can't have it all angsty, I'm not a total monster who desires nothing more than to tear your hearts to shreds. Maybe. I don't know. You're here, aren't you?
> 
> This story will be told from four different perspectives: Oikawa, Suga, Kuroo, and Akaashi (as you probably saw in my less than apt description). And to make it easier, each chapter title will have the character's POV beside it since I have it formatted differently in Word.
> 
> We hit the ground running with this one.
> 
> I tagged the emotional/verbal/physical abuse and recurring alcoholism so if anyone is affected by that, **please take heed.** It won't be anything explicit - a slap, punch, maybe even a kick - but nothing graphic. 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy!

_**Monday – December 3, 2012** _

I was five years old when my dad first hit me.

It was sharp and quick, not enough to knock me down, but to a son who wanted to do nothing but make his father proud, he might as well have thrown me to the floor.

All because I had knocked over my cup of milk trying to pass him the salt.

He apologized, said that he overreacted, but it was something I’d never forget.

I took one last deep breath of twilight, allowing it to cool my body. My breath trailed easily past my lips, up, and away into the night that started to pour in. I leaned against the tree trunk, resettling on the branch, almost feeling the smooth rise and fall of hibernation beneath my fingertips.

There was something about taking pictures that gave me a sort of adrenaline rush. It wasn’t that I had free rein, that I could climb the tallest mountains, or visit secluded beaches, or even discover ancient caves. In fact, it was none of those things.

It was the way a glimpse – a split second – was captured. Stolen. In pictures, I could hold them. Touch them. Cherish them. Time bound by a flash and burned onto film. To be a thief in broad daylight, open and identifiable, and embezzling what my older brother called “God-given moments.”

Of course, that was just a bunch of crap he was spouting. I’ve never believed in a higher power. I’ve never believed that some big guy sitting on a throne in the clouds would stand by and watch the world waste itself away. His supposed beloved children. I couldn’t believe in a God that would take him away from me.  
I tried to see the world just as a camera does: simple and clear.

But I couldn’t.

Even as I sat among the branches that overlooked a town dancing with Christmas lights and tinkling ornaments, I still couldn’t.

Dad had bought me an old Polaroid camera for me on my tenth birthday when he saw I had a knack for photography after taking countless pictures on his phone. It was my most treasured possession, along with what happy memories we shared together.

I pulled the camera back up, looking through the lens and adjusting the zoom to my satisfaction. If I angled it just right, then I could –

“Tooru?” A voice managed to crawl up the trunk, even in the quiet night. I looked down and there stood Shouyou. 8 years old. The whiny, pain-in-the-ass little brother I’d do anything for. He stared at me with coffee eyes veiled by scruffy ends of fiery orange hair, his cheeks flushed with worry and chill. 

Taking another shot of the neighborhood, I smiled at the velvet sky in my hands. “Is there something you need, Shou-chan?”

“Dinner is ready. And you know…” He looked over his shoulder, brow creased in what could only be fear, and lowered his voice. “Dad doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“He’s home already?” I asked no one. How unfortunate. I risked another picture, and the small snap of the lens brought a sort of lukewarm satisfaction. A taste of rebellion left stinging on my tongue and crackling through my veins. Electrifying. “Be down in a second.”

Shouyou hissed up at me. “Tooru, now! Please!”

“All right, I’m coming,” I tossed the camera to him and started scaling down the tree. “Heads up!”

He barely had enough time to get his hands out of his oversized purple sweater to catch it. He gave the camera to me, unharmed, and tucked his hands back in his sleeves again.  
“Don’t just throw things at me! And then you’d be mad if it broke.”

“I had the utmost faith in you.” I blew a speck of dust off the lens. “Besides, if you broke it that means you’d have to buy me another one with the allowance money you’ve been saving up.”

He pouted. “That’s no fair! You threw it at me!”

Because I knew this kid could argue for days, I pointed to his outfit – just to throw him off course. Jeans, scuffed blue Converse, and the red beanie I had given him on his fourth birthday. It had definitely been through the ringer (more so than when I wore it all of two times), if the overlapping stitches from countless tears and fading color were anything to go by. The kid was hardly seen without it on, even in the dead heat of summer.

“Nice ensemble. Pick it out yourself?”

“O-Oh.” He looked himself over and threw out a grin. “Yeah. You like it?”

I hooked my arm around his shoulders. “I sure do. Looks like you’ve finally picked up your older brother’s amazing fashion sense!”

Shouyou laughed, trying to push me away. “You have the lamest shirts ever, Tooru.”

“Is that why you borrow them all the time?

“I don’t like to do laundry!”

“Not my fault you’re lazy.”

He huffed. “I’m not lazy.”

“Just a little bit.”

In the house, Mom was trying to set the table, clearly in a panic, while Ponyo played in the living room for about the 30th time today. She smiled at us and took a moment to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Curls that cascaded down her back like open flames. Rosy cheeks. Caramel eyes.

She glanced at the camera before meeting my gaze. 

You must keep your passion hidden, her eyes said.

I might as well be dead.

“Hurry!” she urged under her breath, and her eyes darted above us when footsteps echoed against the hardwood.

I hid the camera in my room in a hollow space underneath the floorboards next to some money I saved, and a few old Polaroid pictures of me and my family. Dad hardly came up here, and when he did he never stuck around for long. It’d be safe here.

I made it back to the dining room just as Dad sat down at the head of the table, hunched over the plate Mom served him as his fingers played with the neck of a fresh beer bottle, and he took the first swig out of many. Sweat trailed down his angular jaw from his golden-brown mop of hair. His adolescence on a rice farm and the police academy has kept him toned.

Mom set a dinner plate to my father’s right – my spot – as I pulled out my chair, conscious of how loud it scraped against the hardwood. Shouyou stared at his rice beside me, itching to grab his chopsticks, but waited for Dad to give us the green light. Dad was absolutely reeking with tension, more so than usual. But when he picked up his chopsticks after a few breathless moments, the air became clearer.

“So, how was everyone’s day?” he finally asked. “Shouyou?”

My brother trembled in his sweater. “I-I had a good day. The math test was kind of hard.” His speech came out jumbled but quick.

“Do you need a tutor, son?”

“N-No.” 

Shouyou always had trouble with his grades. I’ve tried to help him where I could, but Dad would rather spend money on a tutor than rely on me.

Dad rested his brown eyes, the same dark shade I harbored instead of Shouyou’s soft syrupy hue, on Mom and wore the mask of a husband well. “And you, dear?”

“Nothing new.” Mom forced that same sunken smile.

“The ladies gossiping again?”

She nodded.

Mom was young, having me at 21 and Shouyou just seven years later, unlike all the other old crows around here who didn’t have children until much later. They worried Mom would steal their husbands and squawked other absurd rumors while they perched on their front lawns wearing fake smiles and giving false waves. She never said anything, though. She was quiet. Docile. 

A living doormat.

“Pay them no mind,” Dad said, shoving a piece of fish in his mouth and continued when Mom nodded in agreement. “They’ve got nothing better to do with themselves.”

The silence that settled over us was violent – threatening – despite the occasional tinkling silverware that scraped against the plates, and I’ve tried so many times to not make the mistake of getting comfortable with Dad not speaking to me. Because when he finally did, I never had a sufficient answer.

“How’s that girl doing? What was her name? Saiko?” He folded his hands, and I gripped my chopsticks a little tighter. He hasn’t said much to me over the past few days, and I had hoped that tonight would make it the fifth good dinner in a row. Something must’ve pissed him off at work.

I nodded and kept my eyes on the food instead of the man who looked far too much like me. “Yes. Saiko. She’s good.”

Inoue Saiko was a petite girl with ash brown hair and striking blue eyes, a daughter of one of the officers in town. We had the same literature class together, and she was a nice enough girl.

“Did you take her out?” he asked.

I can’t lie. He already knew the answer.

“No,” I said.

“I can’t hear you, boy. Speak up.”

I fought the clip in my voice. “No.”

“But I’m sure you’ve been whoring around with those other heathens.” He glared at me over the brim of his beer bottle. “I will not have any faggots in this household, do you understand me?”

Mom interjected. “Kenta –”

“No, Hitomi.” He slammed his bottle on the table, making us flinch. “No son of mine will be a part of those self-righteous rainbow freaks. It’s sickening. You know damn well your parents don’t agree with it either. Why do you think they don’t come around anymore?”

Yes, blame it on me rather than the fact that you’re a complete and total asshole who impregnated their daughter straight out of high school and wedlock.

Then again, he wasn’t entirely wrong either.

All that aside, Dad couldn’t stand me as much, if not more, than my grandparents and has been trying to cure me of my “illness” by setting me up with girls in town ever since he caught me with another boy the summer before my sophomore year. And honestly, I didn’t think a kiss on the cheek would’ve caused so much trouble. I should’ve known better, been more careful.

My eyes drifted to the empty chair beside Mom.

“What about practice?” Dad asked.

I shrugged. “It went fine, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow. Shit, I was making this worse. “You guess? And what the hell does that mean? What’d your coach have to say?”

I stopped eating. “We had a practice match today, and I missed a lot of combos.”

“You’d better not be slacking, boy.” His beer was almost gone. “I expect at least 20 points on Thursday’s game, you hear me?”

I poked the sliced fish with my chopsticks, and Mom’s eyes begged me to say something – anything – to avoid what I knew was coming. Which happened to be a punch coming way out of left field.

The pain was familiar, dull – a nuisance more than anything. Hot blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, coursing and blending along the contours of my red flannel shirt, and tears stung my eyes. A small gasp escaped Shouyou’s lips, and he pulled his beanie over his eyes.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you, ya son of a bitch!” Dad grabbed me by the front of my shirt. “You’d better realize who you’re dealing with, boy! If you were half the son Satoru was, we wouldn’t have an issue!”

“Kenta!” Mom cried.

Dad shoved me out of my seat before going to the basement, and Mom handed me some napkins to wipe the blood. I pressed one to my face, ignoring the empty chair.

Satoru.

My older brother.

The man who I hoped to be, and the man who lived only in old cassette tapes and photographs taped to dusty walls and stuck in photo albums. 

“Are you okay?” Mom kneeled in front of me.

“I’m fine.”

She stroked my cheek, making me flinch, and she moved her hand to card her fingers through my hair, her eyes glazed over with fresh tears. “I’m so sorry, Tooru.”

Sorry? _Sorry?_

“It’s fine, Mom.” I nudged her hand away. “I’m okay.”

She kissed my forehead. “Let’s finish eating, okay?”

I stood up, sitting back down in the chair and finished what part of my dinner I could stomach. Afterwards, she told me to ice my face for the swelling, and then kept herself busy by clearing off our plates and shoving leftovers in the fridge with the other interrupted dinners. Shouyou plopped on the couch and watched _Ponyo_ underneath his blue blanket, clutching onto his beanie.

I sighed, sitting on the couch next to Shouyou as Ponyo reunited with Sousuke. 

“Does it hurt, Tooru?” he asked.

“Nah, not really,” I said. “I’ll be all right.”

“I don’t like it when Dad hits you. It makes me sad.” Shouyou rested his head on my shoulder when the credits rolled. He relaxed as the minutes ticked by, his breath evening out as he slipped further into sleep, and as soon as he was out I picked him up and carried him to his room.

I tucked him under the covers, flicked on his nightlight, the glow gently lighting up the volleyball posters on his walls, and as I was about to close his curtains I noticed a car parked in the driveway next door. Our neighbors moved out a few months ago.

And I couldn’t help my piquing curiosity.

 

_**Tuesday – December 4, 2012** _

 

“Come on, Tooru! You’re gonna be late for school!” Mom called.

“I’m coming,” I said, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My cheek wasn’t too swollen since I iced it a bit before I went to bed, so it hopefully shouldn’t draw too much attention. I’ll just make up a stupid excuse if anyone asked. I made some sense of my hair, noticing some sandy strands beginning to peek through the brown dye again. I’d have to fix that soon.

I straightened my jacket and tie before following the smell of breakfast being made downstairs.

“Tooru.”

I stopped. I hadn’t even made it to the kitchen yet. “Yes, Dad?”

He zipped up his jacket, and when he looked at me his eyes were softer and warmer. “I just want to apologize for last night. I had a hard day at work, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I had too many drinks and lost my temper. It was uncalled for.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, making me tense a bit. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He mussed my hair, and then he left.

Shouyou was nibbling on a piece of toast topped with an egg and sipped on orange juice, the beanie slack on his head. “Good morning, Tooru!”

“Mornin’, kiddo.” I fixed his cap. “Sleep well?”

He grinned. “Uh-huh!”

“Good morning, son.” Mom came over and kissed my cheek, holding out a mug of coffee. “Here you go – your morning addiction.”

I smiled, taking a sip. “Thank you.”

“Tooru, here!” Shouyou nudged the plate of toast towards me.

“Thanks.” I picked one up and lathered some jelly on it. 

After breakfast, Mom wrapped a scarf around Shouyou’s neck, zipped him up in a thick jacket. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you guys to school?”

“Yeah.” I adjusted my messenger bag to avoid looking at the white suburban in our driveway and clutched onto the strap. “It’s just a 15-minute walk. By the time you get the car warmed up, we’ll be at school. Besides, we’re meeting up with Iwa-chan and I don’t wanna leave him out in the cold.”

“Your math is a little off,” she said. “But I promise it’ll be okay, dear.” She brushed a few strands of hair from my eyes. An act of reassurance. It worked when I was a kid.

I gently pushed her hand away. “Thank you. But no.”

She nodded, notable concern in her eyes, and let me be. She settled for patting my cheek, then turned to Shouyou and bent down to his level. “Do you want me to drive you to school, sweetie? It’s chilly outside.”

Shouyou looked between the two of us, and he gripped my jacket with a gloved hand. “I wanna go with Tooru.”

Mom readjusted my brother’s scarf and kissed his head. “Listen to your brother, Shouyou-chan. Don’t wander.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

“Oh, Tooru, I almost forgot,” Mom said. “We have new neighbors. They just moved in yesterday where the Takahashis used to live. Lovely family. They have a son about your age, I think. His name is Kousuke. I’d like you to try and be friends with him. It’s scary being in a new place.”

In a town with less than 16,000 people, we were hardly daunting.

“How am I supposed to make him feel welcome when I don’t even know what he looks like?” I asked.

“It’s not a big school, Tooru-kun. You’d know one if you saw one.”

“What do you want me to do? Hold his hand?”

“Just _try,_ Tooru. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Okay, okay. Bye, Mom.” I waved and set out into the cold morning, on the path to school lined with a blanket of untrodden snow and slushy buildup on the curb, waiting for Shouyou to catch up. The road had already been cleared of last night’s bout of snow, and I was starting to miss the way Urameshi-san’s garden across the way popped with its vibrant colors. Hydrangeas, lilies, tulips, and even the succulent raspberries she often sold to the bakery in the summer for the famous raspberry muffins.

Christmas break was coming up pretty fast, and Shouyou always looked forward to it. Maybe Dad would be home this time around. 

I inhaled deeply.

Holidays were always interesting at the Oikawa household.

“Tooru, can we build a snow man?” Shouyou asked, hopping along the edge of the yard beside us.

I watched him. “Sure.”

“After school?”

“We can.”

“Yay!” he skipped back to my side and took my hand, trying to catch fresh falling snowflakes on his tongue but instead they kissed his eyelashes and the tip of his nose.

I clicked through my phone. Hmm, I was honestly surprised that Iwa-chan hadn’t –

“Oikawa!” 

There he was.

Iwaizumi Hajime, my friend since the first grade when she was new in town and shoved a bucket of sand down a boy’s pants because he pushed me off the monkey bars. We were inseparable after that – countless sleepovers during the summer, playing volleyball, hunting for bugs in the woods surrounding our town, playing volleyball, telling scary stories until we couldn’t sleep, playing volleyball…

Yeah, we played a lot of volleyball.

“Hajime!” Shouyou bolted ahead, jumped into his open arms and almost knocked him clean over.

Iwaizumi easily caught my brother and grinned, spinning him around. “Hey!” he set my brother back on his feet and mussed his hair. “Man, did you sprout up overnight? I swear you were shorter last week!”

“I’m gonna be taller than you,” Shouyou chirped and puffed out his small chest. “A-And then I can go on dates – like in the movies!”

My eight-year-old brother had more balls than I did when it came to asking someone out. Now I really felt eclipsed.

“Quite the charmer, aren’t you?” Iwaizumi chuckled, moving his attention to me. And his hazel eyes seemed dark even in the morning light. His gaze was unmoving. Unyielding. _Knowing._ “Everything okay? You were running a little later than usual this morning.”

I grinned, even if it hurt to do so. “Come now, Iwa-chan – beauty like this takes time, it doesn’t just happen overnight!”

Iwaizumi didn’t look the least bit convinced. Apparently the swelling hadn’t gone down enough. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know that’s not what you meant, but nothing happened so there’s no point in talking about it.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna laugh if I tell you.”

“When have you ever known me to laugh?”

I tapped my chin. “Hmm…”

“Oikawa.”

“Okay, fine,” I said and took a deep breath. “I smacked myself trying to cover myself last night.”

“What.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Tried pulling my covers up and wham! Right in my face. It was pretty embarrassing if you ask me. I’m glad you weren’t there to see it, you wouldn’t have let it go.”

Shouyou’s Bambi eyes flicked to me in confusion.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “You smacked yourself in the face… covering yourself.”

“That’s what happened.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “No big deal.” I moved on ahead. He would keep me out here all morning if I didn’t. “Come on, Shou-chan.” I took his hand in mine as soon as was beside me.

It took almost no time at all for Iwaizumi to fall into stride next to me. “Oikawa, don’t lie to me.” Though his words might’ve sounded firm to anyone outside of our friendship, his eyes and tone dripped with concern. “You can talk to me, you know that.”

“I’m not having this conversation, so just drop it, okay? Please.” I looked around, suddenly feeling like I was being watched even though we were practically the only ones walking to school on this frozen morning. “I know you’re here for me, but I’m not gonna talk about this right now. All right?”

He wasn’t going to let this go simply because I brushed off his questions, he knew better than anyone what really happened, so for now he took my brother’s hand – the way Shouyou lit up would make anyone’s day – and talked to him about the silliest things, including volleyball and pork buns.

“Did you catch the game last night? Tokyo vs. Osaka?” Iwaizumi asked.

I looked at him. “Wait, that was last night?”

“Yeah, remember? We were supposed to watch it together.”

“Aw, man! I can’t believe I missed it! Who won?”

“Osaka.” He grinned. “Three sets out of five.”

“Ugh! Now I’m glad I didn’t watch the stupid game.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You know I don’t like Osaka, and here you are rubbing it in my face.”

“One of my many talents.”

“You mean one of the _few_ talents you have.”

And then Akiyama Community was looming over us a lot sooner than I’d like, with students ranging from kindergarten through 12th wandering around. The campus composed of two buildings across the street from each other, one for elementary kids and the other for junior high and high school with a gym and tennis court towards the back. I’d gone to school with the kids in my classes since we were practically in diapers. Now, that was nice and all, because you knew everyone. But it also sucked because everyone knew you. Invisibility was impossible. And it’s hard when that’s all you want to be.

A little boy with raven hair and steel blue eyes came hurrying, and Shouyou did his best to pout but anyone with eyes could tell that he was happy to see him. “Tobio – good morning.”

“Good morning, Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi-san,” the boy said and then turned his attention to Shouyou. “Dummy Shouyou.”

“I am not a dummy!” Shouyou called after him when he started walking away. He looked over his shoulder to wave at us. “Bye, Tooru! Bye, Hajime!”

“Kids these days,” I said, making sure they followed their teacher inside the building before crossing the street to our own school. “Anyway, how’re things at home, Iwa-chan?”

“Eh.” He shrugged and the dark circles clouding his eyes became more apparent. “We’re afloat.”

Iwaizumi’s parents had been going through some marital issues as of late, and divorce was well within the realm of possibility. Something that my best friend was terrified of, even if he didn’t like to admit it.

“Yeah, and the Titanic was afloat for two hours and forty minutes before it sank,” I said.

He waved me off. “We aren’t talking about me, though. We were talking about you.”

“To be fair, I did ask _you_ how things were going at _your_ house.”

“Shut up.”

“Oikawa, Iwaizumi!” the new voice made us stop and turn, coming to face Hanamaki Takahiro and Matsukawa Issei. They’d been mine and Iwaizumi’s friends since we met on our middle school volleyball team.

“Yo,” Iwaizumi said.

I grinned – dammit, it still hurt. Gotta stop doing that. “Mattsun, Makki – good morning!”

“Did you guys hear?” Hanamaki said, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

“Hear what?”

Matsukawa smirked. “There’s a new boy here. You’ve heard, right? It’s the talk of the town since his dad supposedly works for a huge company up in Osaka – Sugiyama Construction Company.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Then answer me this: why is he here in Marumori of all places? Sugiyama Construction is a multimillion dollar company, and we’re lucky enough to even register on the map. Shouldn’t he be off somewhere like Osaka or Tokyo eating with a silver spoon?” 

“I don’t know.” Matsukawa shrugged. “But he’s here.”

“And why are you telling me this?” I dodged a group of second graders trying to escape the janitor chasing them as we entered the school and headed to the second floor. They probably looted the science rooms again looking for frogs. “If you’re trying to play matchmaker, you’re wasting your time.” 

They followed me to my locker so could I exchange my biology textbook for algebra, minding the camera that rested at the bottom of my backpack.

“Maybe we should go say hi, make him feel welcome,” Matsukawa said.

“First my mom and now you two.” I shut my locker. “I don’t see the big deal.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe you two are humoring all of that gossip,” Iwaizumi said. “Wait, actually I can believe it.”

“I expected it from Iwaizumi, but I thought that Oikawa Tooru of all people would be the first person to jump in on the welcoming committee,” Hanamaki said. “Also, what happened to your face. It seems a little swollen.”

“He was probably making fun of Iwaizumi again,” Matsukawa said.

Iwaizumi opened the locker right next to mine. “That’s true, he was making fun of me.” He changed out his math textbook for his literature book. “But I didn’t hit him. In fact, he hit himself.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa deadpanned. “What?”

“Yeah, he smacked himself in the face trying to cover himself.”

Matsukawa looked at me. “How the hell did you do that?”

Iwaizumi and I had this lying thing down to an art. Every bruise, every cut – one of us always came up with an excuse and the other would just piggyback off of that. I was being missed a step on the stairs and fell, I ran my hip into the doorknob, I smacked myself in the face with the blankets – whatever it was. It worked. It was a system. And it was a system I needed.

To keep Shouyou safe.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa stared at me for a moment, both seemingly skeptical.

“All right, that’s fair,” Hanamaki said.

“Jeez, you’re so clumsy, Oikawa.” Matsukawa clapped me on the back. “Be more careful, yeah? You’ve got a volleyball team to lead.”

I rubbed the back of my head, pulling the best innocent expression I could. “Yeah, I know. I’ll see you guys at practice.”

They waved and disappeared in the crowd of students filing through the hallway.

I tightened the hold on my bag strap, knuckles whitening, fists shaking, the sting growing in my cheek, feeling the cold hardwood underneath my fingertips. “Thanks, Iwa-chan.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

I immediately relaxed. “Yeah.” I nodded, more to myself than anyone. “Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

“A lot easier said than done.”

“I know.” I smiled. “You should get to class, Iwa-chan. Don’t wanna ruin your perfect attendance record now, do you?”

He chuckled, nudging me with his arm. “Get to class, all right? I’ll see you at lunch.”

I stood there, watching him meld into the crowd, wondering what I’d do without him. Knowing that I wouldn’t be the same person without him.

I headed to class after that, waving to the occasional squealing girl chatting to their friends. Being the son of a police chief, there were certain, let’s say – standards – that I was held to. Even more so now since Satoru’s accident. My academics suffered heavily after that, and I guess I never fully recovered. Sure, I’m enrolled in college prep classes, much like Iwa-chan, but I could only seem to make decent enough grades to keep myself eligible for games. Failing my classes on purpose wasn’t the best idea I’d had in a while, so the only real hope I ever had of going to a good college was on a volleyball scholarship.

Bobbing and weaving through the students, I stopped just short of the room, debating on whether or not I really wanted to suffer through this period. I could skip, but then Dad would tan my hide. I looked back down the hall, head leaning back against the wall, when something caught my eye.

It was him.

The new guy.

Sticking out like a sore thumb with silvery blonde among the sea of brunettes and blondes.

He was of average height, slender. Pale skin. Clothes that seemed to swallow him whole. One might say that he looked like an angel in his own right, even if he seemed rather helpless as he glanced around in the awkward dance of passing students.

Mom’s request rang in my ears, and I sighed.

Maybe he was kind of cute.

I smoothed out my jacket, took a deep breath and walked over with my best smile. “Need some help?”

He turned to me and visibly relaxed. He seemed exhausted, but his eyes were bright – popping like fireworks – a warm and welcoming cedar brown, much like cinnamon. And he rubbed his face before giving me a nervous grin.

“Yeah, kind of.” His voice was raspy, broken almost. He handed me a crinkled piece of paper maimed with smudges and chicken scratch which I could only assume was his handwriting. “Do you know where this class is?”

If I could even make out what it said. But I nonetheless struggled to read through the crinkles in the paper. What character was that?

I couldn’t help but ask. “Did you write this?”

“Oh, no. The secretary in the front office did.” He scratched the back of his head, chuckling with an apologetic smile. “Sorry if it’s a little hard to read.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ha…? Hi…?

Yeah, definitely Hi.

Himura. Algebra. Room 304.

My class.

We had the same class together.

I gave him his schedule back as the hallways started to clear and smiled. “Today’s your lucky day, newbie. We’re classmates.”

His eyes sparkled like fresh cider, and he smiled so hard I thought his face would split in half. “Oh, thank goodness! I’m so glad I’ll know someone. What’s your name? I’m Sugawara.” He stuck out his hand. “Sugawara Koushi. You can call me Suga.”

Koushi. Not Kousuke.

_Silly woman._

“Oikawa Tooru.” I clasped my hand in his and shrugged out a small shake to prevent the very real possibility of breaking his arm. Or well, his everything, really.

“Oikawa Tooru.” My name rolled off his tongue slowly, like he was testing out another language for the first time. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Oikawa-kun, if you don’t hurry you’ll be late!” a girl rushing down the hall said.

Oh, right. Class was still a thing.

“We’d better go, Suga-chan.” I headed back in to my original destination with him close behind. “Himura-sensei’s a real stickler about punctuality, and I’d hate for you to have to deal with that on your first day.”

“Thank you,” he said, falling into stride next to me.

We made it to class just as the bell rang, and Himura-sensei eyed us over the rim of his thick glasses. “Another close call, Oikawa?”

Did I mention I’d been late to his class a couple of times? Granted none of those times were my fault, but the guy never let anything go.

“I was helping Sugawara-kun find his way here, sir,” I said. “Since he’s new.” Then I smiled, ignoring the sore pull at my cheeks. I was getting used to it now.

“Ah, yes.” He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk. “I was told we’d be getting anew student. Sugawara Koushi, correct?”

Sugawara – or rather, _Suga_ – nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

Himura-sensei nodded. “Well Oikawa, I’m sure Sugawara here appreciates you showing him the way here. Thank you for doing that. You may take your seat now.”

I shuffled my way towards the middle of the room and plopped in my designated seat as Suga stood up there looking more or less like a lamb getting thrown to the wolves. At least he finally got some color in his face.

“So, Sugawara-kun – tell us a bit about yourself,” Himura-sensei said. “Where’re you from?”

“Osaka,” he said. “We moved here because of my dad’s job. He’s an architect.”

Architect? Fancy.

“Interesting.” Himura-sensei hummed in thought. “Do you have any hobbies? Sports you like to play?”

Suga seemed to ease a little more. “I played volleyball.”

That definitely caught my attention, and I wondered if he was going to try out for the team today even if he was a little on the thin side, but if there’s one thing I learned is to never judge someone’s ability purely based on their physical stature alone. I saw that clear as day in my little brother who was short for someone his age, but he was fast and could jump.

But I couldn’t help but notice that Suga had said play _ed._

“Well, we have a volleyball team here on campus. Maybe you should try out,” Himura-sensei said.

Suga smiled. “Thank you. I’ll look into it.”

“Great.” Himura-sensei then gestured towards the back of the class. “There’s an open seat for you back there, Sugawara-kun. If you have trouble seeing the board, then we’ll make arrangements for you.”

Suga nodded, gave a small bow, and took his seat next to Yachi Hitoka, who was quite possibly the shiest girl in our grade. Yachi was a petite, blonde girl who was very sweet and gentle, and would probably jump at her own shadow if it ever got the gumption to. She was two years younger than us but skipped two grades in elementary school due to her academic success.

“All right, class.” Himura-sensei moved to the front of the room and grabbed a piece of chalk. “Open up your books to…”

I sort of tuned him out after that and just wrote whatever he jotted down on the board. It’s not because I didn’t care. To be honest, I probably cared a lot more than some of the people in here. Math just wasn’t one of my stronger subjects, and it wasn’t like Himura-sensei didn’t know what he was doing, he just… had no idea what he was doing. Nothing ever clicked. And when I went to ask for help, he just made me feel stupid so I stopped.

I’d have to figure it out on my own anyway, I didn’t need some ass with a fancy piece of paper that said he graduated from college telling me I’m an idiot.

About 45 minutes later, he dismissed the class, and Suga came right up to me. It made sense since I was the only soul he knew.

“Does he make everyone stand up at the front of the class like that?” he fidgeted.

“You’re the first new kid we’ve had in a while,” I said, scanning the makeshift schedule again when he handed it to me and walked out of the room. “He made us all do that at the beginning of the year – don’t take it personally. He’s not our favorite guy.”

“Yeah, well, your next class is just down the hall.” I pointed in the general direction of said class. “Kuromachi-sensei is a real nice lady. But you’ve gotta speak up. She’s been around since the Dark Ages.”

He laughed.

It was rough, almost heartbreaking, as if his body was saving whatever strength it had left for something worthwhile. And it was fascinating, beautiful, strangely enough.

I handed the paper back to him. “It’s not hard to get around. For the most part, stay on the third floor, but some of your classes might be on the second floor. The first floor is usually for the junior high kids. The elementary school is across the street and our gym is the back building, but I didn’t see that on your schedule, so don’t worry about it.”

He beamed. “Thanks again. I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to help me.”

“Being the new kid sucks,” I said. 

A dry and brittle chuckle forced its way through his chest. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Try not to get lost, okay? If you happen to catch me in the hall, don’t hesitate to ask for directions.”

He smiled. It looked like it hurt. “Thanks.”

I waited until he made it where he was supposed to before heading to my next class. 

Now, Mom couldn’t say I didn’t try.

**

I met Iwa-chan for lunch that afternoon.

The courtyard was glistening with snow, and since it was so cold not many people wanted to sit out here and endure it, which was fine by me. Didn’t feel like dealing with a whole lot of people right now anyway, and I think it was safe to say that Iwa-chan agreed with me even if he wasn’t the biggest fan of snow.

I pulled an apple from my backpack as we sat down on one of the many open benches, and Iwaizumi stared at me in bewilderment.

“Is that all you’re eating?” he asked as he pulled out his boxed lunch.

I sifted through some Facebook feed on my phone and took a bite. “Not that hungry.” 

To tell the truth, I just didn’t want to tell him that I had forgotten to grab my lunch on the way out the door this morning. I remembered Shouyou’s, which was infinitely more important, but still. Luckily the apple I hadn’t eaten yesterday was still in here so I would have a little something in my stomach.

“You’re not hungry.” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you never been hungry? I specifically remember you stealing my food.”

“When?”

“When haven’t you?”

“You mean like this?” I plucked a piece of his sliced mackerel and ate it. 

He shook his head. “You have absolutely no shame.” 

“Neither do you. I also remember you stealing my French fries all the time, so that makes us even.” I stuck my tongue out at him and pulled out my camera from my bag. It was a simple Canon digital camera since my vintage Polaroid was way too valuable for me to tote everywhere I went.

“You have to eat something other than an apple, Dummykawa. You’re gonna make yourself sick. And you have practice today, I don’t wanna have to carry you home on a stretcher because you passed out.”

I smiled, one that I knew drove my best friend up a wall. It was way too much fun riling him up sometimes. “Iwa-chan, are you my mom?”

“Shit, I might as well be.” Then he started digging around in his backpack. “Here.” He pulled out another bento box. “Lucky for you, my mom is a considerate woman. She wanted me to give this to you. Eat it now or later, I don’t care. I just can’t go home with that boxed lunch or she’ll tear me a new one.”

I looked back and forth between the full meal and the apple.

Mackerel sounded so much better than some fruit.

I popped off the lid. “Tell your mom I said thank you.”

“I will,” Iwaizumi said. “But you can also tell her yourself when you come by for dinner on Friday night. She’s making that curry you love so much.”

“Perfect, I’ll be there.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes, the only sound between us was the occasional snap of my camera lens and cooing pigeons. I gave him another three seconds before the questions started flooding in.

“So – you gonna tell me what happened?”

Called it.

“I told you already. I smacked myself in the face.”

He flung a piece pickled fruit at me. “Stop lying. It belittles us both.”

“There’s nothing new to report.” I cleaned the lens with my sleeve. “It was over volleyball. Why else would he get upset?”

“I still don’t understand why you don’t take up Hattori-san’s offer.” He poked his rice with his chopsticks. “He won’t cheat you, and you’re not going anywhere with what they’re paying you at the supermarket. You could save up and get your mother and brother out, too.”

I gave him a sharp look. “You know I can’t do that.” 

“You’re my best friend, Oikawa. I’m tired of you getting hurt every time you take one step off the sidewalk, and I’m tired of not being able to do anything about it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you just reference a Kelly Clarkson song? Iwa-chan, I knew you liked American songs, but come on.”

“You’re missing the point. Look, I know you’re worried about your mom and Shouyou, and it’s a lot easier said than done, but –”

“I’m not having this conversation.” I turned away from him.

“It’s something we’ve gotta talk about at some point, Oikawa.”

“It’s not anything worth discussing, so just drop it.” I looked over my shoulder. “I’m not getting worked up over it, and neither should you.”

He sighed, but he relented which is ultimately what I wanted. “Get a chance to meet the new kid Hanamaki and Matsukawa were talking about?”

“Yeah. I helped him find his class.” I reeled through my old photos for possible development. “We have math together.” A pigeon taking flight was captured in the snap to replace a blurry hillside. The camera beeped at me. Low memory. Shit.

“What’s he like?”

“I’m not really sure. He seems nice enough.” I deleted some photos, smiling at the ones of me and Shouyou. “The rumor about his dad working at a construction company is true. Oh, and he said he plays volleyball. Or, well, _played.”_

“Maybe he should try out for the team.”

“Eh, I don’t know. He looks sick.”

“Sick?”

“Yeah, sick. Like legitimately sick.”

“There’s a fake kind of sick?”

“Shut up, you knew what I meant. The dying kind of sick.”

Iwaizumi chewed on some rice. “Damn. Guess there’s no subtle way to approach that, is there?”

“I’m not a brute like you, Iwa-chan.” I held my head high. “You can’t just go up and ask someone stuff like that, it’s uncouth.”

“I’m surprised you even know what that word means.”

“Shut up!”

Iwaizumi laughed, and it was so contagious I couldn’t help but join him.

Damn, that felt good.

**

“Tooru, do you think I’m gonna be a good volleyball player?” Shouyou asked on our way home, tossing his own volleyball up in the air and catching it. He had insisted that he wanted to stick around and watch me practice instead of carpooling home with a friend. I tried calling Mom to let her know, but she wasn’t picking up so I left her a text message.

Iwaizumi had gone home a little earlier after I insisted that Shouyou would be okay sitting in the stands by himself while we finished up practice due to something his mom needed him to do. I wasn’t sure about the details. If it was dire, Iwaizumi would let me know.

“A good volleyball player?” I said. “You’re gonna be a great volleyball player!”

His eyes sparkled, and there was a slight hop to his step now. “Really? You think so?”

“I _know_ so.” I smiled. “Have you figured out what position you wanna play?”

“I wanna be the ace!” he declared, his tiny chest puffed out with pride. “They make the ball go bwam! and pow! and gwah! It’s so cool!”

I laughed. “The ace, huh? That’s a pretty intense position.”

He grabbed my hand, jumping up and down. “Will you toss to me, Tooru? Please? Stupid Tobio said he wants to be a setter, but I want you to toss to me!” There was no stopping him now that he was all riled up. “Then you can show me your killer serve! I wanna learn how to do it!”

“I’ll be more than happy to show you, Shou-chan.”

“Thank you!”

It was around 8:30 when we arrived home. Practice had run a little later since we had so many turnovers last game and had to do almost 60 serves to make up for it. There was no police cruiser in the driveway, and there wasn’t the sound of bottles being chucked in the trash bin down in the basement.

Maybe he wasn’t home yet.

“Mom, we’re home!” Shouyou announced after kicking off his shoes.

I slipped mine off shortly after, dropping my bag by the door. The smell of dinner was still strong, and now that I had a clear view of the dining area there were two plates on the table full of food. And now that I thought about it, I was hungry.

But I hadn’t even made it past that creaky floorboard before I heard it.

“Where the hell have you been, boy?!”

Shouyou yelped at the sound of our father’s voice and came running back to my side. It hung heavy on my shoulders, settling like lead in my gut. Dad came stumbling out of his study, strangling a clear bottle of whatever alcohol in his hand. I held my ground. I ignored every instinct screaming at me to run.

Where was Mom?

I placed my hand on my brother’s head, making sure to smile. “Go up to your room, okay? And whatever you hear, don’t come out. No matter what.”

“Tooru –”

“Go on, now. I’ll watch _The Secret World of Arietty_ with you later, how does that sound?”

“Promise?”

“Pinkie promise.”

Shouyou’s eyes glazed over with thick tears before he scurried up the stairs.

I didn’t remember much of what happened after that. It was mostly just blurs, a jolt here and there. Nothing really concrete. All I remember is Shouyou suddenly hovering over me, his movements garbled and slow, sounds coming from his mouth but nothing I could understand.

Hot tears trickled from his face onto mine.

I had to stay awake.

I had to make sure he was okay.

20 points.

Simple enough, right?


	2. Sugawara: Mutant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We all pay with life for death, so everything in between should be free.”  
> – Bill Hicks

_**Wednesday – December 5, 2012** _

“Heart sounds good.” The cool metal was finally removed from my chest. “All right, Sugawara-kun – you can put your shirt back down.”

I trembled as I tugged my shirt back down, breathing shallow. In and out. In and out. Like clockwork. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Hospitals made me nervous. Ridiculously nervous. The kind of nervous where it feels like your stomach is about to fall out your butt and you’re going to vomit at the same time. I don’t know why. 

Being in an entirely new one didn’t help, but maybe it was the rooms – the way they reeked of medicine, cleaning products, and hummed with artificial life. Or maybe it was the doctors with their icy hands and tired smiles, using their instruments to continuously poke and prod and touch.

Maybe it was the fact that I might have been sitting where someone died. I was sitting where someone took their last breaths, said their final words to someone or no one. That my parents were sitting where other families have, where their tears have fallen, mopped up over and over again.

I guess it helped when you didn’t think about it. 

But when you were one of the dying, you would hate to leave the bed soiled for the next person, too.

Mom fiddled with her hands, twirled her locks of blonde hair, glancing around with eyes that mimicked mine – doing anything and everything to keep herself busy. She fixed her Santa-red blouse, flicked a piece of lint off her jeans. Just itching to ask questions.

Dad offered me a smile and straightened the cuffs of his navy pinstriped suit. He was a quiet man. Patient. Calculating. Dark eyes and dark hair. He always came to my check-ups to make sure Mom didn’t harass the doctor with her interrogating. He was the voice of reason.

“Everything okay?” my mother piped up.

“Ayame,” Dad said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dr. Saito nodded. “Everything’s fine.” He started flipping through the manila folder in his large hands. He was a tall man with salt and pepper hair and glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose. And he was my new oncologist at the hospital in Sendai since there wasn't one in Marumori.

“The bloodwork from the test you took a few weeks ago came in from your previous hospital, and it’s looking great. Of course, bear in mind, there’s about a 30% chance of relapse, as your other physician told you. But I highly doubt it since the chemo was so successful.”

Chemotherapy was like being doused in gasoline and set on fire, but you’re too tired to put yourself out. A walking, breathing matchstick, wondering when you were going to ignite. Trapped inside your own flames. Eating was practically impossible for me. Dehydration was a given.

“He had a nosebleed this week,” Mom said.

“Nosebleeds are very common, ma’am,” Dr. Saito said. “But, if it gives you peace of mind, keep an eye out to make sure it doesn’t worsen.”

Acute myelogenous leukemia. Cancer of the blood and bone marrow, and one hell of a mouthful. An invisible enemy I’d been fighting since I was 16 years old after a bruise from a volleyball game wouldn’t go away. Mom did enough crying for the both of us after I was diagnosed because she was convinced her “baby boy was going to die” when the doctors said I only had about a year to live, even with treatment. She had taken me to hospital after hospital, to oncologist after oncologist, only for them to look at the count of my white and red blood cells and shake their heads.

They said I wouldn’t last long with such an “acute” disease.

Yet here I was, three years later.

This would be the first year that I’m only burdened by 30%. 

That one tiny number could make or break me.

“Your eye.” Dr. Saito jotted something down on my chart. “Was that random?”

I had stopped a soon-to-be fight between two students in the hallway at school yesterday. I didn’t know what the situation was, and I didn’t particularly care. All I saw was that the smaller guy was clearly at a disadvantage so I just moved.

I wasn’t banking on winning, but I took getting my ass kicked with pride.

“Just a little misunderstanding,” I said.

Mom huffed. “A _little_ misunderstanding? Koushi, you jumped into some else’s fight when it was none of your business.”

“Ayame, please. This is not the time or place to discuss that.” Dad crossed his arms.

“He’s my kid, too, Kazue –”

Dr. Saito cleared his throat. “You need to be more careful, son. You’re still in remission.”

“I feel fine.” I hopped off the bed. “Honestly, I’ve never felt better.”

“Don’t argue, Koushi.” Mom stood up and shook hands with my new oncologist. Dad followed suit. “Thank you very much, Dr. Saito. We’ll see you next month.”

Nurses blew by as we trekked down the hall. Nurses I didn’t know. Some walking with small children, some glancing at medical charts. Names and faces I would have to learn all over again. And there was nothing I hated more than starting over.

Marumori. Miyagi Prefecture. Same suburban setting but with a completely different feel. The places, the roads, even the way traffic flowed was different. It was wrong.  
Or maybe I was the one who was wrong. Misplaced. Down to the very last molecule.

My silver-blonde hair doesn’t run in my family. Even the freckles speckled all over me. Dad’s mom, Grandma Ai, said that the last person in our family to look like me was her grandfather. And from what she can remember, he stuck out like a sore thumb, too.

Mom often blamed Grandma Ai for my sickness. That she condemned me to a short life and constantly wondered why my father wasn’t sick, too. And now that Grandma Ai was gone, that blame reared its ugly head on my father. It was the spark of many arguments. But I didn’t blame Grandma, or Dad, or anyone. Shit happens.

Having my own brush with death a year ago made me realize early on that it’s something no one wants to talk about, that we can either leave a footprint or a crater in this world of ours. That no matter what, we’re all gone whether it be tomorrow or 30 years from now. We think we’re invincible – that if we ignore the problem, it goes away. Until it’s something as insignificant as a mutant gene that snuffs you out.

It was warm today, and the winter air in Sendai was chilly enough to keep snow on the sidewalk but with a weird sense of humidity. The cold here was so different from the cold in Osaka now that I thought about it.

Dad’s cellphone rang, and he didn’t even have to look at it. “Work’s calling. I have to go.” He kissed Mom’s cheek and patted my shoulder before taking off in a separate car.

I followed Mom to her car. 

Dad’s job was what had brought us here in the first place. He’d been transferred here since there was some new project that needed a “motivated architect” such as himself, and it promised a more stable income so my parents jumped on it. So I had no choice but to tag along.

“Think we can go see Dad later?” I watched pedestrians bustle about from the passenger seat with coffee cups in their hands as they jabbered on their cellphones.

“He’s terribly busy, angel.” Mom flipped through the radio stations and settled on pop. “The move affected all of us. Give it a couple of weeks and everything will be back to normal.” She tapped her hands on the steering wheel to the beat of the song. “He said he’s not working late, so I thought I’d cook us a nice dinner. What would you like? It’s your pick.”

“I’m fine with whatever.”

“Okay, great,” she said. “How’re you liking school?”

I huffed. “I don’t know, Mom. If these absences keep up –”

“Koushi, you know very well why you can’t miss any of these appointments. If we lost you because you were stubborn and didn’t want to go to the doctor, then –”

“You’ll never forgive yourself,” I drawled and kicked my feet up on the dashboard. “I know, Mom. I know. But I don’t want to repeat again. I’m going to be 19 and I’m _still_ a third year.”

Mom paused for a moment, her eyes focused on the road ahead. “We wouldn’t even be going through this if your grandmother had just –”

My voice cracked. “Can’t you just drop it?” 

“All I’m saying is that a little heads up would’ve been nice. Hell, even your father could’ve said something sooner.”

“Grandma Ai had Alzheimer’s, okay? She didn’t even know who Dad was half the time, so I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t remember that she had leukemia. Besides, Dad doesn’t have it so why would he think that I’d get it? Cancer isn’t exactly something you discuss at the dinner table.” I sighed. “So please, just leave it.”

She loosened her grip on the steering wheel. She wanted to argue. She wanted to be right. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

I placed my face against the cold glass and closed my eyes while the radio hummed around me on the road back to Marumori.

And I wish I could say that I felt better once we were home.

The new house bothered me. It was two stories and pastel yellow, a literal pale comparison to our last house made of dark red brick within a gated community, and it looked like it belonged to an 80-year-old woman rather than two parents with their sickly son. It just didn’t sit right with me. 

“Would you like me to make some tea?” Mom shed her jacket and flung it on the couch once we were inside.

“That’s fine.” I shrugged off my coat and hung it on the rack.

“What kind?”

I made a beeline for my room. “Surprise me.”

“Is hot cinnamon spice okay?”

“Sure.”

“Did you take your medicine?”

I hated taking those stupid, chalky horse pills. “Yes.” 

“Don’t spend all morning playing those stupid video games, Koushi. They’re bad for you.”

“All right, Mom.” I shut my door, immediately tearing off my shirt and throwing on a new one that didn’t smell like stale medicine. The large purple splotch on my shoulder still leaked from under the sleeve from when I had bumped into the doorframe two weeks before.

Mom had unpacked for me, saying that I shouldn’t strain myself, but instead focus on settling in and meeting new people. I flopped on my bed and it sighed in protest. Video games were always an option. I wasn’t a very big gamer to begin with, but when I was diagnosed I fell into a huge slump after I had to quit playing volleyball, and I didn’t have the motivation to do much of anything other than play copious hours of _Kingdom Hearts._ Shout-out to Kozume Kenma for those countless hours, I completely blame him for this. But I didn’t talk to anyone, not even Daichi, for about a couple of weeks. I knew he was worried, but I just didn’t care. I bounced back after a while though and still found time to attend their games.

If I booted up my PlayStation, I could reconnect with my friends back home and revel in a pixelated grandeur of epic battles.

Then again, they were probably busy with school. They’d be sophomores in college by now.

Must be nice. 

I tucked my pillow under my chin and opened up my phone, tapping on a previous message thread to find the last message received was at 2:45 in the morning. Around the time I crashed out last night.

**To: Daichi**

**How’s your essay coming along?**

I reached over to put my phone on my nightstand – Daichi wouldn’t respond for another hour or so given his class schedule – but to my surprise, my phone went off.

**From: Daichi**

**_‘Take a wild guess.’_ **

I smiled, typing: **That bad huh? Also aren’t you supposed to be in class? Or are you playing hooky?**

The response was immediate.

_From: Daichi_

**_‘I’m in class.’_ **

Another came through right after.

_**‘And I honestly couldn’t care less about what some royal dead guy did back in the 1800s. I hate world history everyone knows that. I’m messaging you so I don’t fall asleep.’** _

I openly laughed. **You didn’t have coffee this morning did you?**

_**‘no woke up late again’** _

**The studious Sawamura Daichi has fallen from the ranks and is now among us common folk. Welcome to the dark side.**

_**‘Shut up I don’t need your judgment I’m still turning in my assignments on time.’** _

**Barely.**

_**‘Did you message me just to make fun of me?’** _

I clicked on his TV and glanced at the kids’ commercial for some sugary drink dancing on the screen in bright colors. **No I didn’t lol I just wanted to see how you were doing.**

_**‘I’m doing good. More importantly how’re you doing? How’d your appointment go?’** _

My fingers hung over the keys, feeling the exhaustion creep into his bones, and instead imagined myself sitting in a big lecture hall at Osaka University rather than allowing myself to be swallowed up by this unfamiliar house and town. **Eh nothing new. Bloodwork came back solid. There’s about a 30% chance of relapse so I’m not gonna keel over tomorrow or anything.**

_**‘And you’re doing okay?’** _

**Yeah, I’m doing great.**

_**‘you sure?’** _

**Would I lie?**

_**‘yes you would’** _

I huffed. **Butt-head. Shut up and pay attention. Make sure to do your paper it’s due soon.**

_**‘All right Mom sheesh lol I’ll talk to you later tonight did you still wanna Skype?’** _

**Of course. I’ll tell you all about my riveting first day back in high school.**

_**‘Can’t wait to hear it. I’ll talk to you then. Don’t overdo it, Suga.’** _

I rolled my eyes, but I knew that Daichi only said that because he was worried about me. Daichi and I had been friends since we were in diapers. We grew up together, knew each other better than we knew ourselves. He was like a brother to me, we stuck with each other through thick and thin.

And I missed him.

A lot.

I wondered what it’d be like to go to class with him again, help each other with our homework.

And that made me miss him even more.

I sat up and looked around after a minute.

I started rearranging my room like it was back home in Osaka, shoving my bed against the wall next to the window, my dresser near the door, my bookshelf by my closet. I scattered my volleyball posters along the walls out of their orderly formation and positioned participation trophies on empty shelves. It was hard, and even though sweat beaded across my hairline, and my chest tightened and my arms and legs trembled, and I could hear Daichi’s words clear as day, I kept moving. I had to. I needed to. 

I rearranged my movies, from Japanese to American to my childhood favorites, each of them in their own respective section with their sequels after it. I even organized the games that my friend, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, let me have before I left. They were mostly first-person shooter games, which I wasn’t that into as much as he was, but I enjoyed them nonetheless. Kenma and I usually made a game out of riling Tanaka up. I could imagine Mom just tossing these up here, never once realizing there was a system.

I tore it all down.

But I didn’t get very far when Mom walked in.

She gasped. “Your room! You –”

“I changed it, I know.” I placed _The Avengers_ in its section, leaving just enough room for any upcoming sequels. I grinned. My chest was still a little tight, but organizing the movies gave me a break. “Looks just like it did back home, doesn’t it?”

She threw her hands on her hips, eyes flaring. “You aren’t supposed to be straining yourself, Sugawara Koushi!”

I kept my voice soft and low and continued arranging my favorite childhood films. “Mom, I’m not gonna keel over from moving some furniture around, I promise. I feel fine.”

She pulled a Disney movie from my grasp, casting it back into the pile and put her hands on my shoulders. “How do you expect to get better and _stay_ better when you’re not resting like you should? I can’t lose you, Koushi – don’t you understand that?”

She’d always been like this. Always fretting over me. Always thinking that if I stepped on a pebble, I’d break my ankle. And when I was diagnosed, it only escalated.

“Mom, I –”

“Come now.” She helped me to my feet. “The tea’s ready.”

She handed me the red mug I had bought online a couple of years ago when I sat on the couch and grabbed the other blue one for herself. Some hospital soap opera flashed on the TV – I never really had much of an interest in those TV shows – and she wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. Boxes still lined the crème faded walls, but for the most part, we were moved in.

“It’s a bit chilly.” She shuddered with a smile. “The heater’s taking some time to kick in. Sorry.”

I shrugged and sipped the tea. I hated this flavor.

“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk yesterday,” she said, leaning towards me. “Tell me about your first day of school. How was it?”

“It was okay.” I gave another shrug, watching the dark tea ripple in my hands. “People were kind of nice. Had trouble figuring out where things were.”

“And this is where that boy helped you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s his name?”

“Oikawa Tooru,” I answered. “He’s in my math class.”

She twirled her hair. “That name sounds familiar.” Then she snapped her fingers. “You know what, I think he’s our neighbor.”

“He’s our neighbor?” I could feel my heart skip a beat.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Son of the police chief. Captain of his volleyball team. Apparently, they’re pretty good and have a real shot at going to the championship this year. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.” 

I figured Oikawa played sports, purely judging on his physical build alone. And he plays a sport I loved – _love_ – sounded good at it if the fact that he was captain was anything to go by. He was handsome, someone who the girls around the school fawned over in the hallway, and when he walked over I honestly couldn’t believe that he was talking to _me_ of all people. And in those few moments I talked to him, he seemed like a really personable guy. Everyone seemed to like him.

But there was something about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Maybe I was overthinking it.

“What’s he like?” Mom asked.

I fought down the flush in my cheeks. “He’s nice.”

 _“Just_ nice?”

“I only talked to him for like two minutes, Mom.”

“Well, angel, I’m glad you’re making friends.” She smiled and stroked my cheek. “But don’t get caught up on this one guy, okay? Go out and meet different kinds of people, be sociable. Don’t stay holed up in your room all day.”

“Mom –”

She stood up and smiled. “Now, finish your tea. And I’ll get all of your movies and video games organized.”

I watched her go, knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to get through to her now. I chugged down the rest of the tea, not minding the bite of heat. It always left my mouth feeling like sandpaper, which made wolfing it almost necessary. Mom claimed it was an old family recipe, but she needed to start paying more attention because there was always a grainy residue at the bottom of my cup.

She was terrible at making this stuff.

And I stayed there on the couch, bound by that heavy wool blanket until Dad came home. Until we were sitting at the table with fresh, steaming sukiyaki in our bowls. Until she stopped humming that same old tone-deaf tune of hers.

I stirred the noodles, watching them twirl around my chopsticks, and my hunger seeped away the more I stared at it. 

Mom paused the conversation with my father. “Koushi, dear, aren’t you going to eat?”

I didn’t want to tell her that her food had been tasting funny these past few weeks, that each bite was more challenging than the last. It was a different kind of funny than when I’d been on chemotherapy. This kind of funny burned and left a bitter aftertaste that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It wasn’t all the time, but it was often enough.

But I didn’t want to hear that it was just the cancer talking and that I needed to eat to keep my strength up. I didn’t want to see that subtle hurt in her eyes because she “poured her heart and soul into this meal.” I didn’t want to argue.

I picked up some noodles with proud uncertainty and stuffed it in my mouth. It burned my throat as I swallowed and grinned.

“Tastes great, Mom.”

**

I threw up.

And I kept throwing up, even when nothing was coming and my throat was raw and scorching. Even as tears streamed down my cheeks. Even as Mom rubbed small circles in my back and whispered comforting words I didn’t want to hear.

I dry heaved and coughed, clutching at the sides of the toilet despite the stench practically burning my nose, and I somehow managed to pull the handle and flush it all away.

“Come on, angel. Let’s get you back to bed.” Mom helped me to my feet and allowed me to rinse my mouth in the sink before leading me back to my room.

The covers felt cool and warm all at once against my clammy skin, and Mom brushed my sweat-dampened hair from my forehead. 

“Do you want some water?” she asked.

I just nodded, and she left the room.

My phone vibrated on my nightstand, Daichi’s name lighting up the screen.

But I didn’t answer.

 

_**Thursday – December 6, 2012** _

 

Dad dropped me off at school in the morning, which was a relief from Mom’s constant rules and regulations. It took everything I had to get out of bed this morning but also to convince my mother I was well enough to go to school. I watched a few of my peers toss melting snow at each other. 

I just didn’t want to be stuck in that house all day anymore. 

“Your birthday’s coming up soon.” Dad turned down the classical station as we pulled into the parking lot. “Any ideas on what you want?”

My birthday wasn’t until June, but hey – at least he was asking. It had been hard to get more than two words out of him lately.

“A driver’s license.”

Cars clambered into empty spaces and here I was, 18 going on 19 and still relying on my parents for rides to school.

He chuckled. “If you want to give your mother a heart attack in the process, then yes.”

Everything gave her a heart attack. She would’ve keeled over long before my 16th birthday if that were the case. I looked at him. “Can’t you at least talk to her? She listens to you.”

“She listens to me no more than she listens to you, son.”

Hoisting my backpack on my shoulder, I threw out a small wave. “See you later, Dad.”

“Koushi.” He clapped his hand on my shoulder. The lines of marriage and work aged him. “You’re an adult now – at least legally. I’ll talk to her, all right?”

Part of me really wanted to believe him. But with this new job that had him constantly traveling between here and Sendai, he’d more than likely forget. Just another card shoved into the deck.

I heaved a smile. “Thanks.”

“Have a great day,” he said and drove away.

I tore off the scarf Mom forced me to wear and stuffed it in my backpack while reaching for my schedule. I still was unsure about which class to go to first, and a certain prideful part of me didn’t want to ask Oikawa for help. What if he had other important things to do? Like not talk to some newbie who should know what the hell they're doing by now? 

It didn’t help that people stared. Constantly. And it annoyed the ever living out of me, being under the spotlight like this, but I chalked it up to being a new student and not because it looked like I had just crawled out of a zombie movie.

“First is Himura-sensei,” I hummed aloud, trying to make sense of my makeshift guide. The secretary in the office had other things to do so she didn’t take much care in making sure my schedule was legible. What a day for the printer to jam. “He’s the jackwagon that made me stand up at the front of the class.” I scratched my head. “That’s the class I share with Oikawa. Then it’s Kuromachi-sensei for history, and after that is Sasaki-sensei for literature…”

Himura-sensei’s class was in room 304, right? Yeah, that sounded right.

“Did you hear?” a girl leaning against the wall said to her friend. She was lean, brunette. “The volleyball game was cancelled today.”

“What?” her friend’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“Someone hurt Oikawa-kun pretty bad Tuesday night. He apparently got jumped by a group of out-of-town guys walking home. His little brother was with him.”

I stopped.

Oikawa? He was hurt?

“That’s terrible! Is he okay? What about his little brother?”

“He’s in the hospital right now, but he should be able to come back tomorrow. Shouyou-chan’s okay, too.”

“What about the game? Oikawa-kun is going to be so heartbroken!”

“They moved the game to next week since this came up so unexpectedly.” She started walking down the hall with her friend. “There’s no way the team would play without him!”

“That’s so amazing!”

Though I strained to hear more, the girls’ conversation eventually melded with the other chatter flowing throughout the hall, so I turned to continue walking towards class until I ran into the wall. Wait, no. That wasn’t a wall. That was a person.

A person with spiked tufts of hair, hazel green eyes, sun-kissed skin.

And he looked like he could snap me in two.

“Sorry,” I said, attempting a smile. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” His eyes studied me for a moment, eyebrow slightly raised. “You’re Sugawara Koushi, right?”

I was beginning to wonder just how many people knew who I was. “Yes.”

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” He stuck out his hand.

I shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Did you need any help getting around? Oikawa’s not here today, but he asked me to walk you to class.”

The tips of my ears ran hot. “You don’t have to!”

“I don’t mind. Besides, I don’t wanna hear Oikawa’s constant whining about how I didn’t help out the new guy when it was only his third day.” Iwaizumi started walking down the hall towards my class.

Part of me wondered if Oikawa did this with all the new students.

Then again, he said they didn’t get new students often.

Another part of me held onto that.

We were quiet for a bit, the only sounds of the other students milling about us, and I’d never done well with awkward pauses. “So, you’ve known Oikawa-san for a while now?” I said. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I don’t mind,” Iwaizumi said, sidestepping someone moving rather briskly down the hall. “But yeah, we’ve been friends since we were toddlers. I’m stuck with the guy.”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi seemed so different but so similar at the same time.

I glanced at the floor. “I heard something happened to him. Is he okay?”

Something darkened in Iwaizumi’s eyes before he nodded. “Yeah, he got jumped by a couple of punks while walking home with his little brother. It’s nothing major, just some scrapes and bruises but the doctors want to make sure he’s okay before they release him.” He looked at his phone. “I’m gonna visit him after school.”

“I can grab his homework for him.”

Iwaizumi blinked a few times. “You’d do that?”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Thanks. I know he’ll appreciate that. I can get it from you after class.”

“Sure. I’ll wait for you here. Thank you, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Just Iwaizumi is fine. You don’t have to be so formal.” He smiled. “I’ll see you later. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

I nodded, grinning as he walked away.

Math class was really boring.

**

_“So, Suga-san – how’s the new town? Where are you living again?”_

I stared at the screen going wild in bouts of gunfire and explosions, maneuvering my character out of the way and to a safer area and popping a potato chip into my mouth. “Marumori. It’s about an hour away from Sendai, closer to the coast. And it’s kind of like those sleepy towns you read about in novels. The people here are nice, but you can tell they don’t get newcomers often.” An enemy player came wandering into the building, and I snuck in a swift kill.

 _“Oh, come on! You don’t even play first-person shooters all that often! How are you this freakin’ good?!”_ Tanaka shouted into my headphones.

 _“Tanaka, you don’t have to shout – we can hear you,”_ Daichi said.

_“I’m just saying! That’s his sixth kill in a row! And it’s a headshot! I’ve died four times already!”_

I chuckled. “That’s because I know how to use my brain.”

Tanaka was silent for a few seconds. _“Ouch.”_

Daichi laughed. _“Suga, nice kill.”_

_“You’re supposed to be on my side, Daichi-san!”_

_“Since when?"_

I grinned. Man, I really missed them. And if the one way that I could talk to them was going on a _Call of Duty_ binge then so be it.

There were telltale sounds of Tanaka munching on something on the other end of the line. _“Have you made any new friends? Have you replaced us?”_

“Yeah, I’ve definitely found replacements for two of my closest friends.” I chuckled. “Of course not, Tanaka. I could never replace you guys.”

Tanaka sniffled. _“You’re so kind, Suga-san!”_

“I know.”

 _“As if we had to write that one down for you, Suga,”_ Daichi said.

“Because Sugawara Koushi knows all.”

_"Sure, you do.”_

_“You still haven’t answered my question, Suga-san. Have you met anyone new? They were nice, right? I’ll fight them if you need me to.”_

I laughed. “No, Tanaka, you don’t need to fight anyone. I only met a few people, and –”

 _“Oh?”_ both Daichi and Tanaka said in unison.

 _“Are any of them cute?”_ Daichi asked.

Tanaka cackled.

I rolled my eyes. “Hush, you guys. It’s not like that. He just helped me find my class.”

 _“Oh, there's just a ‘he’ now!”_ Tanaka said, probably with a wild grin on his face. _“I’m definitely curious.”_

 _“Suga, are you in love already?”_ Daichi asked.

My face heated up. “No, I’m not!” 

_“Why’re you getting so defensive, Suga-san? Got something to hide?”_ Tanaka's relentless laughter burst through the headphones.

I moved my character to a rooftop, giving me a clear view of both Daichi’s and Tanaka’s characters. They were heading west, and I spotted three enemies flanking in from the left. Looking through my character’s scope, I waited until the last possible second and took them down.

 _“Whoa!”_ Tanaka said. _“Dude!”_

I stretched out my arms and legs. “It pays to pay attention.”

The mission was over right after that. I had the highest score, of course, with Daichi trailing behind me and Tanaka taking third. He was pretty bitter about that, so while he was ranting to Daichi about how he had stayed up till “ass o’clock in the morning practicing,” I decided to look over my math homework and make some sense of it. 

I was always decent at the subject, but I wasn’t like Daichi who could solve complex algorithms in his sleep, history and literature was more my speed, so I should start looking into going to tutorials before school started. No matter how much I valued my sleep. Then again, there was always after school.

I glanced over the problems on the sheet, frowning. “Daichi, do you mind helping me with my homework over the semester?”

_“Not at all. We can do it together over Skype. What’re you guys working on?”_

“We’re working on…” I thumbed through the pages. One, two, three… “Shit.”

 _“What’s wrong?”_ Daichi asked.

“I gotta go,” I said.

 _“Go? Go where? You just got here!”_ Tanaka said.

 _“That was two hours ago, Tanaka. Be glad he stayed on this long, you know shooter games aren’t his thing. Besides, he’s leading this team in kill numbers.”_ There was a rustle on Daichi’s end of the line. _“Is everything okay, Suga?”_

“Yeah, I just forgot to drop something off. I’ll be back. You guys go on without me. I’ll show you two up again when I get back.” 

_“It has been a pleasure working with you, sir,”_ Tanaka said.

I could practically see Daichi rolling his eyes. _“Be careful, Suga,”_ he said.

“You know me.”

_“Yeah, that’s why I’m worried.”_

“I’ll be fine, just make sure Tanaka doesn’t go to jail for beating up a couple of 12-year-olds.”

_“Done and done.”_

Folder in hand, I placed my headphones near my PlayStation and put the system in rest mode before hurrying down the stairs to grab my jacket and slip on my shoes. Mom wasn’t home from work yet, so I could probably be there and back before she returned home.

Despite this town being a lot smaller than Osaka, it did have a bus system that stopped at some of the further places in town. And luckily, after trekking a good mile in the cold, I didn’t have to wait very long at the bus stop before it arrived. 

My chest was a little tight, but I would live.

The sun was beginning to set, painting the neighborhood in gentle pinks, purples, and oranges as a certain type of quiet I’d never heard before settling as nightfall grew nearer. I’d never known silence like this back home. There was always something going on – traffic, sirens, late night parties. The city never slept. And when I crawled into bed my first night here, I stayed up late to listen to the crickets. 

Marumori only had one hospital, a general one, and even though I knew I wasn’t going to be the doctor’s person of interest, I still had to fight down the roll of nausea curdling my stomach. 

“Excuse me.” I stopped at the receptionist’s desk. “I’m here to see someone – Oikawa Tooru. Do you know what room he’s in?”

He flipped through some papers on a clipboard. “Let’s see…” he stopped on one. “He’s in room 212. Visiting hours end at 9:00.”

“Thank you.” I headed towards the stairwell, figuring that a couple of flights of stairs wouldn’t be too bad. 

Room 212 was about halfway through the hall on the right side, and just as I was about to knock a boy who couldn’t have been any older than 10, with wild tufts of fiery orange hair and cocoa eyes of equal intensity, stopped and stared at me, I wondered if the receptionist gave me the wrong room.

“Are you going in here?” I asked.

He nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry –”

He tilted his head. “Are you here to see Tooru?”

“Tooru?” I blinked. Could he mean…?

“Uh-huh, he’s my big brother!” he grinned and opened the door, taking my hand and tugging me inside. “Come on!”

The room was dimly lit, the soft, orange glow of the lamp reminding me of a campfire’s warmth. There was a large blue curtain dividing the room down the middle, but since there was no one in the first hospital bed, the curtain was only pulled about halfway. Enough where I couldn’t see the occupant’s face.

“Tooru!” the boy said.

I was going to try and gently tell the child currently dragging me around that I had the wrong room. But the new voice made me stop.

“Shouyou?”

I knew that voice, as weary as it sounded. 

“Someone came to see you, Tooru!”

There was the soft rustle of sheets, and once I was past the curtain, it was the unmistakable Oikawa Tooru lying in that bed. From what I could see, his left eye was completely bruised and still a little swollen. His lip was cut with some smaller bruises starting to yellow around the edges on his face, and there seemed to be a different kind of light in his eyes. Or a certain darkness. 

Whoever those assholes were really did a number on him. 

And I could feel my blood begin to boil under my skin.

He was sitting up now, eyes wide. “Suga-chan?”

“Oh, uh, hey.” I rubbed the back of my neck. _Hey?_ Hey? _The guy got jumped a couple of nights ago, and all I can say is ‘hey’?_

The boy now known as Shouyou climbed onto the bed next to his brother. Where were their parents?

“Hey,” Oikawa said. “What’re you doing here?”

“I forgot to give Iwaizumi the second page of our math homework.” I held out the folder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He took it in his slender hands, opening it and his eyes flew across the page before closing it and looking back at me. And then he smiled. “Thanks, Suga-chan. You didn’t have to come all the way over here though.”

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble. Especially because of my stupid mistake.” I shifted on my feet. “Besides, it’s the least I could do.”

“It happens.”

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, unable to find another way to expend the anxiety charging my nerves right now. “I heard about what happened. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He chuckled. “You should see the other guys.”

I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but I didn’t press further. He probably had enough to deal with. “Yeah, I’m sure you put them through the ringer.”

“Do you go to school with Tooru?” Shouyou asked.

I smiled. “I sure do. We’re classmates.”

Shouyou flashed a megawatt grin. “Cool! Do you have play volleyball, too?”

“I did a couple of years ago.”

“What did you play?”

“I was a setter,” I answered.

Shouyou gasped, looking over his shoulder at Tooru. “He’s a setter just like you, Tooru! He’s a setter! Maybe he can toss to me, too!”

Tooru’s mischievous grin was loving and tender as he ruffled the boy’s hair and pulled him into a hug. “You don’t want me to toss to you anymore, Shou-chan? How rude!”

Shouyou laughed. “I do! I want you both to!”

I felt like I was intruding on something personal, but their smiles and laughter were so contagious that I couldn’t help but feel my spirits lift, too. Though some might say that they looked completely different, it was clear as day that they were brothers through and through.

“Shouyou here wants to be the ace of his volleyball team and go all the way to nationals, isn’t that right?” Tooru asked.

“Uh-huh!” Shouyou nodded before pouting. “The other kids make fun of me because I’m small, but I’m gonna be the best ace ever, just you watch! I may be little but I can jump!”

“Suga-san, will you toss to me so I can practice being the ace?”

“Of course! I’d be more than happy to.”

“Yay!” Shouyou cheered and then tugged onto his brother’s shirt. “Tooru, did you hear? Suga-san said he’d toss to me! Now I’ll have two really cool setters to toss to me and then I’ll become the greatest ace ever!”

I smiled. This kid was gonna go far.

“Sugawara?” Iwaizumi was standing next to me now. “What’re you doing here?”

“Iwa-chan.” Tooru’s smile widened, even though it looked painful to do so. “Suga-chan here was being a great classmate and brought me the other half of my homework. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

Iwaizumi nodded. “I see. Thanks for that. Sorry to make you come all the way over here.”

I shook my head. “It’s not a problem, it was my fault.”

“Hajime!” Shouyou said, catching the other’s attention. “Hajime, guess what! Um, uh – what’s your name again?” he looked at me, tilting his head.

I smiled. “Suga.”

“Oh yeah!” he turned back to Iwaizumi. “Suga is a setter like Tooru!”

Iwaizumi chuckled. “Is that right? That’s pretty cool! Did you tell him you wanted to be the ace?”

“Uh-huh!” Shouyou nodded, scooting off the bed. “I watched the games you play in a lot, Hajime! We should watch it again! I brought it with me.” He hurried over to the backpack resting on the leather chair, sifting through until he found a disc. He tried pulling out the laptop but almost toppled over with it.

“Shouyou, here – let me help.” Oikawa started to slide out of bed but winced, unable to hide the pain rippling through his body from showing on his face. He clutched at his side. “Dammit…”

Iwaizumi shook his head, helping his friend lay back down. “What part of you should be resting do you not understand? I’ve got this. You lay there.”

“But Iwa-chan –”

“You better keep your happy ass in that bed, Oikawa.”

I could see that Oikawa wanted to protest, something that looked to be an often-enough occurrence, but he finally relented, his expression nothing more than pure exhaustion and pain.

I looked back and forth between Iwaizumi and Oikawa, glancing at the floor because I couldn’t bear to see that look on their faces. “Well, I’ll let you get some rest. I hope you feel better soon, Oikawa.”

Oikawa nodded. “Thanks again, Suga-chan.”

“No problem.” I headed towards the door.

“Suga-chan?” Oikawa said.

I turned around. “Yes?”

“Want to grab dinner or something later?” he asked. “You know, when my face doesn’t look like it got ran over by a tractor?”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised. My eyes widened a fraction, and the cool metal of the doorknob at my fingertips anchored me to this room. “Dinner?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You know – food. A quick bite to eat. It’ll be my treat.”

I shook my head, and I was pretty sure I resembled more of a cherry than an actual person. He was offering to buy me dinner Why? What for? “Oikawa, I couldn’t possibly –”

“Come on, it’s the least I can do. You didn’t have to come all the way over here to drop off my homework, but you did it anyway.” He smiled. “Please?”

Iwaizumi crossed his arms. “He’s a stubborn ass, but don’t feel pressured to go.”

Tooru looked genuinely offended. “Mean, Iwa-chan! Suga-chan knows he can say no if he wants to!”

“I’m just saying.” Iwaizumi shrugged. “You’re stubborn.”

I looked back and forth between the two, listening to their banter as Shouyou chimed in. Dinner with Oikawa could be nice. Fun, even. He seemed like great person to hang out with. And it wasn’t like this was a date. He probably had a girlfriend anyway. Yeah, this could be fun.

“Okay,” I said, making them stop. “I’ll go.”

“Great!” Oikawa grinned. “How about tomorrow?”

Tomorrow?

“Oikawa, you aren’t getting released until Saturday,” Iwaizumi said. 

Oikawa waved his hand. “I’m fine, Iwa-chan. It’s not like I broke anything.”

“You can’t even get out of that bed.”

“I could if you’d let me try.”

“No way.”

I smiled. “We can go whenever you get better. I don’t want you checking out early just because you’re stubborn.”

“See?” Iwaizumi said. “Stubborn asshole.”

“Oh no, not you too, Suga-chan! You sound just like Iwa-chan!” Oikawa leaned back against the pillows, whining. He huffed. “I freakin’ hate hospitals.”

My sentiments exactly.

“But I’ll see you later, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, totally.”

“Great! Be careful going home, okay?”

“Of course.”

And I left soon after that, after saying goodbye and promising Shouyou once again that I’d toss to him sometime. And I sprinted back to the bus stop. The wind carried me through each step, even when I had run out of breath and my legs cried for mercy. I kept running.

And the tightness in my lungs felt wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's everyone enjoying the pain so far? Having fun?
> 
> Good.


	3. Tetsurou: Rainfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everyone thinks that courage is about facing death without flinching. But almost anyone can do that. Almost anyone can hold their breath and not scream for as long as it takes to die. True courage is about facing life without flinching. I don’t mean the times when the right path is hard, but glorious at the end. I’m talking about enduring the boredom, the messiness, the inconvenience of doing what is right.”  
> – Robin Hobb, _The Mad Ship_

_**Thursday – December 6, 2012** _

I was late. I was late. I was so late!

I barreled down the road and turned onto the small row of quaint, wooden houses that ran along the empty street. I needed to slow down. I hadn’t been in this town nowhere near long enough to get away with speeding (and I definitely couldn’t pay off the big, fat ticket that followed), but I nonetheless skidded to a stop behind a blue Prius and hopped out of my truck.

Dammit! She’s here already!

I busted through the front door, barely remembering to kick off my shoes before I stumbled into the small living area, which was only characterized by its white walls, the dusty outline from wall trimmings apparent, by an old TV with basic cable and two worn couches. I came to a stop when I saw Kei, my little brother, reading The Hobbit to a woman on the couch. That was his favorite book, a requirement before bed. Dad did it. And it was only right to keep it going.

She looked at me long before Kei did.

“Tetsu, you’re home.” He put the book to the side and came over to hug me. “You stink.”

I mussed his sandy hair and smiled. He was getting tall, a sign that he was growing well. And I latched onto that. “Thanks, champ. Nice to see you, too.”

The woman – our social worker – Fujioka Hikari, stood up, straightened out her teal blouse and made a noise of disapproval. She was beautiful, her bottle-green eyes popping against the dark circles surrounding her eyes that she tried to conceal with makeup and her dark curls of hair, and she looked like she was about to pop even though she was only five months pregnant. “You were late again, Tetsurou. I explicitly said 5:30. It’s 6:15.”

“I know.” I held onto Kei a little tighter. Most people looked forward to the end of the week. “I was working. My boss kept me late again. I got here as fast as I could.” I wasn’t one of those people.

She gave a sharp nod and cut right to the chase. “How’s school going?”

Oh. School.

I never tried to think about it too much. Because doing so made me think of volleyball. Then my friends. And then returned to the little kid rereading The Hobbit for the umpteenth time.

“School’s going great,” I said.

Her eyes hardened and she pursed her lips. “You haven’t been going.”

“I’ve been going!” I snapped, then simmered down. “When I can.”

“Tetsurou, it’s imperative that you graduate,” she retorted. “It would make things so much easier when you start looking for a career. Or better yet, get something equivalent to a high school diploma. It’s something rather than becoming another dropout.”

I wanted to graduate. I really, really did.

“And you’ve got to keep this place clean.” She gestured towards the kitchen where there was a pile of dishes stacked in the sink. To be fair, that was the only thing out of order here. “When I got here, Kei was the one picking up.”

Honestly, Kei couldn’t have his room out of order for five minutes, let alone the whole house. He’d do it no matter what I said. Everything had its place, and Kei could tell if I shifted something even the slightest degree. He was an old soul trapped in an eight-year-old body. All in all, Fujioka-san kept rambling, and it was at that point I kind of checked out. I’ve heard this speech a thousand times: go to school. Go to work. Do your chores.

But the most important one of all:

1\. Take care of your brother.

She reminded me of Mom.

But then I remembered that Mom’s face was rounder, her eyes a completely different shade. She was soft edges, warm honey, a whisper, a lullaby sung at night.

Kei was more like her than anyone else.

“Are you listening?” she pulled me back to reality.

I rubbed my eye. “Yeah, totally.”

She sighed and rubbed her temples. “Tetsurou, you do remember that I’m leaving, right? And that you’ll be under the watch of someone else?”

Of course I did.

Fujioka Hikari had been our social worker for a whole year now, soon after we moved here from our small town in Hokkaido, and Kei had grown very attached to her. She was the closest thing to a mom he’d ever had. She was kind, and she understood that our situation was a complicated one: I worked at an auto repair shop, and my boss was an ass, which made paying the bills difficult. And that meant Kei was home alone for a majority of the day while I worked overtime to keep food on the table. As long as I had a stable job and passed our home inspections, Kei could stay with me.

And in all honesty, if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have been able to keep him for as long as I have.

I don’t remember her exact reasons for leaving, except one of them being that she had a little one on the way and the divorce with her husband was getting nasty, but that wasn’t the point. She was leaving us with some other man or woman, who, without a doubt, wouldn’t be as forgiving.

We barely scraped by with Fujioka-san.

There would be no third and fourth chances with this new one.

And was it so wrong for me to feel like we were being given away like old toys?

I nodded. “Do you happen to know who she is? Or he?”

“I don’t have too much information other than that she’s a woman. My boss didn’t really fill me in.” She gathered her briefcase and coat and gave me an exasperated look. “But for the love of God, Tetsurou – don’t be late. You don’t want to make a bad first impression.”

“I won’t be late,” I said.

She shrugged on her jacket. “I hope not. And I don’t need to tell you to tread lightly, do I? No talking back.”

“Yeah, I got it,” I said.

_“Tetsurou.”_

Kei and I followed her to the front door. “I’ve got it handled, don’t worry. You don’t need to stress any more than you already are. It’s not good for the baby.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she said and was about to step out into the winter evening when Kei grabbed her sleeve.

“Are you coming back?”

She smiled at him and placed her hand atop his head. “I’ll be back before I leave, okay? Same time. I’ll even bring you some chocolate cupcakes – if it’s okay with your brother.”

Kei looked up at me with complete and utter hope in his honey eyes. His glasses rested low on his face, and I nudged them back up. How could I say no?

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Great.” Fujioka-san tapped my brother’s nose gently and winked. With that, she said her goodbyes, and we waited until her taillights disappeared in the wintry haze before shutting the door.

I stretched sore muscles, sighing when my back clicked. “Did you get all of your homework done, pal?”

He plopped back on the couch and flipped through his book. “Always do.”

I sat next to him. “Are you hungry?” His stomach growled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He ran his fingers over the remaining pages. “We aren’t having instant ramen again, are we? I get tired of eating that all the time.”

I didn’t blame him. Instant ramen was starting to wear on my taste buds, too. But they were really convenient. And affordable.

“Hmm. Let’s see,” I pulled my wallet from my pocket to see what was hiding within its folds. A few bills and some change. I grinned. “Looks like we’re eating out tonight! Wanna go to the new curry restaurant that just opened up? I’ve heard it’s really good.”

He bounded off the couch. “Yeah!” And he ran down the hall to get his coat, rambling about what kind he was going to get.

“Slow down there, whirlwind,” I called. “I’ve gotta shower first. Unless you want me to stink up the place.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, go bathe.”

I went to the only bedroom in our home and grabbed some clothes from the dresser and a towel. “Whatever, short-stack. Try not to blow the house up. I won’t be long.”

I didn’t wait for the shower to warm up before getting in. I stood there for a moment, allowing the water run its course, to anchor me to this reality that I called mine. Kei hadn’t smiled that hard at the idea of dinner in weeks. He deserved to have a full meal every day. He deserved more than ramen noodles and ravioli. It hurt that I couldn’t provide him with that “more.”

Mom and Dad had left us a little money, but most of that went to attorney fees and finding a place far away from any town in Hokkaido. It was hard, but we were making do with what we had.

And the mere thought of him living under someone else’s roof was almost too much to bear.

The stack of bills on the counter grew more and more daunting each month, and threats of foreclosure were becoming a frightening reality. I sent what money I could, but that usually left us eating canned food and microwave dinners for the next two or three weeks.

Some might call me a child abuser. Hell, some _have._ But what they didn’t seem to understand was that I wasn’t doing this because I was afraid of being alone, or the fear that Kei would become more screwed up living in some foster home.

I was doing this because I loved my little brother.

I was doing this for our parents.

I owed them that much.

“Tetsurou, are you almost done?” Kei knocked on the door.

“I’m coming!” I hollered and washed up. 

We were out the door and headed to Hayashi’s Curry minutes later, and the smell of actual food was almost too much to bear. The family-owned restaurant wasn’t very big, it was actually rather cute, and perfect for a town this size. Kei stumbled out of the truck and ran inside, waving at me to hurry, and then threw the door open which drew the attention of the few customers that were inside.

“Why, hello there!” a middle-aged woman walked right up to us with a bright grin on her face. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, matching her dark eyes emphasized by laughter lines etched into her face. “Haven’t seen you two around here much. Kuroo Tetsurou and Kei, is it?”

I nodded. “That’s us.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally see your lovely faces this evening. I’m Hayashi Ayami. You two just go on and find a seat. I’ll be over shortly to take your order,” she said.

“Thank you, Hayashi-san.”

“Please, call me Ayami.”

Kei nabbed us a booth and glanced through the menu, muttering to himself as he pointed to the colorful pictures. He was always careful and analytical in his decisions – from the way he dressed to what he ate, unlike me who really couldn’t give two shakes of a rat’s ass how I looked. He nibbled on his bottom lip until it was bright red.

“We have enough money, right? For cake?” He showed me the price of the curry. 700 yen. I could swing that.

“How much does the cake cost?” I asked.

“60 yen.”

I smiled, the few bills I had burning in my pocket. “We’ll see, okay?”

Ayami came over. “What’ll it be, you two?”

“I’ll have the chicken curry,” Kei declared. I raised an eyebrow, and when he caught my gaze he tacked on “please” at the end. There we go.

The woman smiled. “Excellent choice, sweetie.” She turned to me. “And you, dear?”

I waved my hand. “Nothing for me. Thanks.”

She wore that concerned mother look all too well. “Are you sure? Not even a little something?”

“Positive,” I said.

She left with a nod, and I kept myself distracted by watching cars pass by, reaching to hear the hum of the road. I wasn’t working at all tomorrow, and my boss wouldn’t let me take up an extra shift. That meant I’d have to make a conscious effort to go to school and deal with the counselor hounding me for excessive absences. I was pretty sure I was beyond the legal limit.

Fantastic, right?

The days that I want – or better yet, can – take off work, he doesn’t let me. But the days I can’t, the times where we’ve been eating like paupers for almost two whole months, he sends me off for extended periods. He was such an asshole. There were payments due at the end of the month and –

“What’re you thinking about?” Kei suddenly asked.

I looked at him. “What do you mean?”

He slid the salt shaker back and forth between his hands. “You always bite your nails when you’re thinking.”

I plucked my mutilated nailbed from my teeth.

“What were you thinking about?” His tone was casual, as if he only asking about the weather. 

“Just school.”

Ayami returned with the food not a second too late. “All right – a chicken curry and rice for Kei-chan.” She placed his place along with a cup of hot chocolate and a slice of cake in front of him, and he chirped a thank you without me having to remind him. She placed another mug in front of me. “And a coffee for you.”

I looked at her. “Thank you, but –”

She shook her head. “You looked like you needed it. It’s on the house.” And then she smiled before walking away.

If I knew that woman any better, I’d hug her. I sipped on it, humming in content, reveling in its heat and sighed. Yeah. I needed it. I think I was running on a total of four hours of sleep, most of that spent tossing and turning and going to check on Kei.

Kei practically scarfed the chicken curry and rice, grinning as he drank his hot chocolate. He got some whipped cream on his nose, and I just smiled. He’d probably get onto me later for letting it stick on his face this long, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him.

Sometimes I wondered where we would be if our parents were still here. If we would still be living in Hokkaido. If our cabinets would be stacked with decent food. If Kei would go to third grade with a full set of school supplies, and I’d be preparing to walk across the stage.

Yeah, it was nice to think about.

About halfway through his dinner, Kei pushed the rest of it towards me. I raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “I’m not hungry anymore. Plus, this is the third night you haven’t eaten dinner. Like you always tell me: you gotta eat something.”

I moved it back towards him. “You need to eat. Don’t worry about me. I eat plenty.”

He scrutinized me from the corner of his eye, his glasses falling to the bridge of his nose. “I never see you eat anything.”

“That’s because you’re always asleep, knuckle-head.”

His eyes scanned my face for any sort of fibbing. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Besides, when was the last time you had curry? Actual curry and not the powder?”

He moved a piece of chicken with his spoon. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” I said. “So, enjoy your dinner. And if you eat it all, you can have the cake Ayami-san brought.” I pointed to the dessert resting temptingly off to the side, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. The curry and rice was gone within ten minutes, and the cake didn’t stand a chance.

I chuckled as he inhaled the last bite of it. “You knew you were hungry.”

“Well.” He licked his fork clean. “Sometimes you don’t eat because you’re so busy making sure I do.”

“Because that’s my job, kiddo,” I said.

Ayami-san placed the ticket on the table. “Here you are. You both have a wonderful evening.”

For a moment, I didn’t want to see how much our little treat had cost. And the possibility of getting away with a dine-and-dash was slim. I’d get caught within the hour. But I brought myself to look at the tiny bolded numbers, and I almost fell out of the booth.

There were no charges. None at all. Not for the curry, not for the cake – anything. Not a single penny. Just a smiley face drawn in thick, black sharpie with “Good luck!” at the bottom of the ticket.

She just…? 

How?

_Why?_

“Is it too much?” Kei asked, craning his neck to see, and I hid it from his view. “Do we have enough money to pay?”

“Hey, you don’t need to worry about that,” I said and scooted out of my seat, pulling my wallet from my pocket. “That’s my job. C’mon – get your coat so we can go. Wait for me by the door.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Just wait by the door, Kei.”

Ayami-san was beside a table serving an elderly man coffee when I approached. I waited patiently, and she met me when she was done. “Everything okay, dear?”

“Why?” I murmured. “Why didn’t you charge me?”

She smiled, and if I didn’t know any better, there was understanding as well. “There’s nothing wrong with being generous, is there?”

My fingers ran over my wallet’s worn leather edges. “Well, no, but –”

“Then consider it that,” she said. “You just keep doing right by your brother. That’s all I ask.”

The wallet went back into my pocket. “Thank you very much.”

“You both have yourselves a merry Christmas – in case I don’t see you. And if you ever need anything, my door is always open.”

I turned to look at my brother, who was fidgeting by the door. “Thanks again.”

“What was that all about?” Kei questioned as I led him out the door. “Was she mad because we didn’t have enough?”

“Nope.” I ruffled his hair. He’ll be taller than me at this rate. “We had just the right amount.”

I put Kei to bed a few hours after we got home, and it wasn’t without complaint. The only bedroom in the house was decorated with dinosaur memorabilia – posters, figurines, even a stegosaurus plush that he’s had since he was he could walk. He was slouched over in the small bed, arms crossed, face pulled in a frown, and clad in one of my thicker, long-sleeved shirts.

“I’m almost nine, Tetsurou,” he huffed. “I should be able to stay up later.”

I chuckled and threw on a nightshirt. “And deal with your grouchy ass in the morning? No thanks.”

“Says you,” he grumbled.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.

He pulled the covers over his head.

“Then I guess you’re okay with me not reading The Hobbit tonight?”

His silence was all I needed.

Grabbing the worn book from the nightstand, I settled in what little space there was next to him as he buried himself deeper in the pillows and thick blankets. I knew I wouldn’t – and _couldn’t_ – replace Dad, but I tried to fill in what I could of the void.

And the scars on my legs burned at the thought. 

I turned to the very first page and was about to start telling the tale of Bilbo Baggins when I noticed he was unnaturally unfocused. Usually when I was getting ready to read his favorite book, he’d lean into my side, eyes sharp, ears tuned into every word. But now his eyes were staring at the wall past me, his face set into a soft frown. I could feel his hands fidgeting underneath the blanket.

I dog-eared the page (though I wasn’t sure how much good that’d do since nearly every corner of every page was folded) and shut the book before scooting down further on the bed where I’d be able to look at him at eye-level. “What’re you thinking about?”

Kei didn’t meet my eyes. “Nothing.”

“You’re thinking about something. What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

His lip made its way between his teeth again where he gnawed on it a bit. He still didn’t look at me, and his voice was low. “We’re gonna be okay, right?”

Oh.

“We’re not gonna starve, are we?” he asked a little louder this time.

I gave a smile, one I knew he couldn’t see quite through. “We’ll be fine. We always are. You’ve gotta stop worrying so much. What do I always tell you?”

“That it’s your job. I know, but –”

“Kei,” I said. “You trust me, right?”

He nodded.

“I’m your big brother, and I’m gonna take care of you. We’ll make it, just like we always have. Remember when we were in Hokkaido? Remember that even though it seemed tough and we were on our own, we always managed to pull through?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“This will be no different. We’re family, we’re brothers. And no matter what, we’re gonna be okay.” I stared into his eyes, the eyes that held so much more than any expression he wore could tell, searching for a flicker of anything. “Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

I opened the book up again to the last page Kei left on earlier this evening, and read the words that flowed across the page as Kei curled further into me. And when he finally drifted off to sleep, I slipped off his glasses and put both the book and the glasses on the bedside table.

I shut off the lamp and left the door cracked open so a sliver of the hall light crept inside, enough to ward off nightmares and the occasional boogeyman. I plopped down on the couch with a blanket fit for a small child. And I let myself drift away into flames while the instant ramen cups sat in the cabinet.

Uneaten.

_**Friday – December 7, 2012** _

When I woke up the next morning, Kei was already shoveling down off-brand Lucky Charms. He glanced at me from the kitchen table as I sat up and popped my sore joints.

“It’s about time you woke up,” he mumbled after chewing a mouthful of cereal. “I thought we were gonna be late.”

“Ah, but it’s so much easier not having to deal with all those people,” I smirked. Kei hated being late. And I loved pushing his buttons. “Don’t you think so?”

He glared at me. “Tetsurou!” 

I laughed and headed for the bathroom. “We’ll be on time. Your perfect attendance record won’t be for naught, I promise.”

“Better not be.” He drank the leftover milk in his bowl.

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror: forehead covered in a thin sheen of sweat, a slight tremor in the arms and legs. Terrified.

I splashed cold water on my face, shaking me from the heat of my dream and stripped my sleepshirt that was stained with sweat. The fire that had been put out more than six years ago, the fire that had claimed our house and our parents still burned. As if I was 12 years old again, dragging my unconscious brother under pillars of smoke and through rising flames, out into the humid summer evening. 

I relived, night after night, the opportunity to go back in and save my parents. And each time I froze, anchored to the boy in my arms. The evidence of my cowardice showed on my legs and my hands, scars still hot and furious. I clung to Kei long after the firefighters and paramedics arrived, fearing that if I’d let him go he’d burn away, too.

 _Watch out for Kei,_ I’d been told. My job from day one. _Look after your brother._

I dabbed my face with a towel. Have I been doing my job?

My morning routine was simple: school uniform, attempt to tame my rat’s nest of hair, and maybe even eat a little something before heading out the door. Kei was silent while the truck warmed up and for most of the drive, which wouldn’t have been a big deal since he’s not particularly a morning person, but he was wringing his hands together – a nervous habit he’s had since he could talk.

“You all right there, pal?”

A minute or two passed before he answered. “It’s Fujioka-san’s last day with us.”

I nodded. “It is.”

His hands were turning white. “What do you think this new lady will be like?”

“Can’t say.” I shrugged. “But I’m sure she’s nice.”

“You’re lying again.”

Again?

“What’re you talking about?” I raised an eyebrow.

“You lied to me.” His gaze was hard. Knowing. And made it hard to remember that it was an eight-year-old in the passenger seat right now. “About eating when I went to bed.”

His perceptiveness really irritated me sometimes.

“And you know that how?”

“Because there weren’t any dirty dishes in the sink this morning.”

I rolled my eyes. “I could’ve easily washed it and put it away. Ever consider that?”

“You never wash dishes, Tetsurou. I’m not an idiot. Besides, there wasn’t any trash in the trashcan this morning.”

I decided to lay down at least one truth. “Fine, you got me. I didn’t eat last night.” He didn’t need to know that I hadn’t been eating dinner for, well, almost two weeks. It’d just piss him off. And while he didn’t show it often, he had a hell of a temper.

Kei claimed his small victory and stared ahead as we approached the school. I pulled into a parking spot, and my brother had slinked out before the truck even came to a complete stop.

His eyes saw so much more than he let on. 

I watched as Kei was approached two boys he’d been hanging around with lately. Or rather they’d been hanging around him. One wore a red beanie and the other had dark hair. What were their names again? Shouyou and Tobio, I think. Something like that. He didn’t talk about his friends much in conversation, but when he did it didn’t sound like he hated them. My brother was making friends and doing well in school. And in the end, that was all I could ask for.

I climbed out of the truck as soon as Kei had gone inside the elementary school building with his friends and headed to my first class of the day: English. Now, as much as I’d like to lie to myself, I’m going to be blunt. I hated school. I’ve always hated it. Part of what they were teaching us was never going to be used in life, as far as I was concerned.

No, I preferred a more hands-on approach. Oil stains. The crank of a wrench. The hum of an engine. Yeah, that was more my speed. I fixed my first car when I was ten – Dad’s ’68 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28. He loved that car. I remember being five years old, sitting in the passenger seat while Dad sped down a dirt road with classic American rock music blasting through the speakers.

Heads lifted when I entered the classroom, and the teacher, Murakami-sensei, had stopped writing whatever she had planned for us on the board.

Yeah. Cars were definitely more my speed.

“Nice of you to join us, Kuroo-kun,” she said.

“Wish I could say the same,” I mumbled and plopped in my seat towards the middle of the room.

She raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

She gave a warning glance before going back to writing whatever book we were studying on the board. The last thing I remember was _Almost Transparent Blue_ by Murakami Ryuu. I didn’t really remember what it was about, but we’d been studying that godforsaken book for a majority of the semester. I mean, I would assume so. I’d been gone for almost two weeks straight.

I kicked my feet up on the desk.

There was a whisper to my left. “Forget your book again, Kuroo? Or did Kei take it from you?”

Iwaizumi Hajime. A small smirk graced his features, and his forest green eyes buzzed with knowing. He’d been saving my hide time and time again in this class, even though we never talked much outside of this room once I quit volleyball. 

I returned his smirk. “Oh please, Kei has better taste in literature than this lady. How much did I miss?”

“You can only delve so far into the deeper meanings of troubled youth before you hit rock bottom.” He scribbled today’s date in the corner of a blank page. “She crashed and burned a long time ago.”

And judging from the wearied looks of my classmates, they’d realized it, too.

“I freaking hate this class, man. She’s so Spartan.” Bokuto Koutarou leaned back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head. He, too, was on the volleyball team and was easily one of the best players on the team. His strength was almost unreal, and that would help him get scouted later on in the season.

He was also who I would consider a best friend.

I’ve never had many of those.

Well, there was this one boy in third grade (I can’t remember his name) who helped me stuff glue, glitter, and napkins in another kid’s shoes who was giving our classmates hell simply because he was taller. We got in trouble, but the fat tears streaming down the punk’s face were completely worth it.

Bokuto sighed. “This book doesn’t make any sense to me.” 

Iwaizumi didn’t miss a beat. “Maybe if you read it, it would.” 

“Dude, I can’t focus on something I don’t enjoy. My brain isn’t wired that way.”

“Iwaizumi has a point,” I said. “Try reading the book for once.”

Bokuto shook his head. “It’s boring, no way. Besides she’s gone over the plot summary like 15 times already, I’m over it.” Then he straightened in his seat. “By the way, how’s Oikawa doing, Iwaizumi? I think I saw him going to class today. Isn’t he supposed to be in the hospital still?”

“Wait, what happened to Oikawa?” Now this was news to me. I try to stray from town gossip as much as possible, mostly because it annoys me to no end and it’s hardly ever true, but I had heard about someone from the volleyball team getting the shit kicked out of them a couple of days ago, but I never thought it’d be Oikawa Tooru. The guy could easily put someone on their ass if he really tried. I also heard the student who came all the way from Osaka. I think I saw him walking down the hall earlier with Iwaizumi, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d been gone for a while so I was out of the loop. 

Iwaizumi’s usually clear eyes darkened, narrowed. “Some assholes jumped him a few days ago. He’s all right, just some deep bruising so the doctor wanted to keep him until Sunday for observation. But he didn’t want to stay in the hospital so he checked out early.”

“Oh shit, is he all right to play?” Bokuto asked.

“I say definitely not, but if you ask Oikawa he’s going to give you a very different answer.” Iwaizumi scribbled nonsense in his spiral notebook, not looking at either of us. “Stubborn jackass doesn’t listen to anyone.”

“Think Coach will let him practice today?”

“I hope not.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got that big game coming up. If Oikawa says he’s all right to play, Coach is gonna swap Yoshida for him for sure. Granted, Yoshida’s gonna be pissed but who gives a damn. Can’t stand the guy.”

And no one on the volleyball team would disagree with Bokuto on that.

I watched Murakami-sensei give an animated rant about Ryu, the main character, and then she brought down the wrath of the English gods and assigned a three-page essay comparing or contrasting the inner turmoil of the Ryu and Lilly, Ryu’s “friend with benefits” – due next week. The class let out a collective groan. If this was going to land me a spot in college and a job as a mechanical engineer, then I’d write all the essays she wanted.

Until then, forget it.

A student, who I recognized as one of the office aides, came into the class and handed a slip of white paper to Murakami-sensei. And I started gathering my things as the class erupted into whispers.

“Kuroo-kun, you’re needed in the counselor’s office.” Murakami-sensei held out the slip of paper between her slender fingers.

“I’ll give you my notes later,” Iwaizumi said.

I smiled. “Thanks.” And I took the paper before leaving the room.

The secretary didn’t even ask what I wanted when I entered the main office. She just pointed, and I sat down in one of the old leather chairs lined up outside Miyake-san’s office. Sitting here was a waste of time – both hers and mine. She was just going to tell me the same thing I’ve been hearing all year: “You’re not going to graduate if you keep skipping. You need to start taking your education seriously.”

I take my education plenty serious.

I just value my brother’s more.

The student in her office soon left, and Miyake-san called me in.

“Have a seat, Kuroo-kun.” She gestured towards the chair in front of her desk and smiled at me like I was her five-year-old son in the family photo perched on her wall. She was young, maybe mid-thirties. “So, how have you been?”

I dropped in the chair. “Busy.”

“Apparently.” Her polished fingernails sifted through the file in front of her – my file. “You’ve been missing now more than ever.”

“Like I said.” I slouched in my seat. “I’ve been busy.”

“Working?”

Duh.

“I understand that supporting your brother is your main priority, but you’ve also got to think of yourself, Kuroo-kun. This is your third year – one of the most important times in a teenager’s life. You should be studying for exams. I mean, have you even thought about going to college?”

Was she serious right now?

Of course I’d thought about going to college. More times than I could count. I wanted to work with cars, I wanted to know how they operated down to the smallest switch, design those switches to contribute to something bigger. I wanted to do something worthwhile with my life. 

I nodded again.

“You should really follow through,” she said. “You’re very smart, Kuroo-kun. You’d be in the top ten percent of your class if you actually attended. You should have no problem getting in. And, if expenses are a problem, there are plenty of scholarships to help out.”

I held back a scoff. 

Again, this was nothing I hadn’t heard before.

“But, you won’t get any credit if you keep skipping like this. I can only reason so much with the higher-ups.”

“I’m trying, okay?” I drawled. “I’m trying. I come to school when I can. What more do you want?”

She sighed. “I’m just trying to help. I want you to graduate, Kuroo-kun. The work program clearly didn’t help, so maybe there’s another alternative. Do you have any relatives here? Maybe Kei could stay with them while you catch up?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just giving you options.”

“No,” I growled and stood, the chair nearly clattering to the floor.

Her expression hardened. “Kuroo, we’re not done talking.”

 _“I’m_ done.” I stormed out of the room towards the front of the school and ignored her calls for me.

How dare she?

Send Kei off with a relative? What was he? Packaged meat? We moved halfway across the country for a reason. I was not about to have him go back to that fermented hellhole we spent the last six years in, practically living on the streets because uncle couldn’t tell water from vodka.

After our parents died, we had no choice but to live with our next of kin, who, after learning of his younger brother’s death, picked up a nice relationship with Jack Daniels and Jägermeister. And he blamed me. He blamed me for killing my parents. Called me a murderer. And for some time, I believed his words. If I hadn’t left the stove on, Mom and Dad would still be alive.

We wouldn’t have had to scour the streets like rats, worrying when our next meal would be. Worrying if we were going to die in the shade of alleyways or by the hands of the strangers we stole food from.

He didn’t look for us.

So, no.

Hell would freeze over before I sent my brother back there.

I sat near someone who was perched on the entrance stairs, camera in hand, the telltale snap of the lens echoing in the quiet morning.

“You always skip class?” I asked after a while.

Oikawa Tooru let out a long sigh, his breath clouding at his lips, and seemed to be debating on whether or not to answer me, but I caught a glimpse of the dark, ugly blotch around his left eye.

“No, not really,” he said. “But I could ask you the same thing. You always skip class?”

I shrugged and leaned back on my hands. “Eh. The counselor pissed me off.”

He nodded, seeming to understand, and snapped more pictures. I’ve never seen Oikawa this quiet before. As captain of the volleyball team, he was very vocal and his presence commanded the court. Seeing him as if he was trying to hide behind the camera…

Well, it was a little unnerving.

Then again, I’d probably act different too if two guys jumped me only days before.

“How’s the, uh, volleyball team going?” I asked.

He stiffened. “Fine. We lost the game against Sendai last week.”

“I heard about that. Coach have a fit?”

“Well, he didn’t combust.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, we’ve had a few close calls.”

Another lapse.

I sort of expected him to ask why I hadn’t come back to the team or why I had left in the first place. I had a lie prepped just in case, but he didn’t ask. And I was grateful.

“Look,” he said suddenly. “If you don’t wanna tell me why you left the team that’s fine. Don’t feel like you owe me any explanations. And don’t let the others pressure you, either. It’s your business.”

Planned on keeping it that way.

Oikawa stood and dusted off his pants as the bell rang. “See you around.” And he went inside.

I stretched when I got to my feet. That was civil enough.

Point for me.

**

Seventh period finally rolled around – my free slot – and I decided to spend it watching the volleyball team practice. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about how they’d been doing without me this past month without me. The back building was a fairly decent size and always reeked of chlorine, thanks to the newest pool installation, so going home without smelling like you took a dip in the pool was impossible.

I absolutely hated it.

There was a sharp whistle over the chatter and splashes from the pool room, drawing my attention, and it turned out I wasn’t alone. Another student peeked through the slightly open doors of the volleyball gym. He clutched whatever book was in his hands.

He must be new.

“Are you waiting for the volleyball team? They won't be in for another few minutes,” I called out and I swear he soared ten feet back. I walked a little closer, hands up to show I meant no harm, and with every step I took, he went back five more. I raised an eyebrow. “Um, are you –”

He took off down the hall.

I scratched my head. Weirdo.

The team ran out onto the court a few minutes after I had nabbed a spot bleachers, and one of my former teammates – Hanamaki Takahiro – shifted the attention of the group to me.

“Kuroo, dude! I was just talking to everyone about you,” Bokuto said. “I know they’ve missed your shining face!” 

“And your skills,” Matsukawa Issei said. “Most definitely your skills.”

I chuckled. “Nice to know where I rank in the grand scheme of things.”

“Where else would you rank?” Bokuto laughed. “Someone’s gotta keep us entertained.”

Matsukawa smirked. “I always thought that was you, Bo.”

“I am pretty hilarious, if I do say so myself.” Bokuto puffed his chest out.

“Well, well, well!” Yoshida Hideo sauntered over to me, ball tucked under his arm with a smirk on his face. Perfect for punching. “Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence. And where the hell have you been, Kuroo?”

“None of your business, Yoshida,” I said.

“Are you coming back to the team, Kuroo-san?” a kid named Haiba Lev piped up from the back and passed the ball in his hands to me. Well, I couldn’t exactly call him a kid. He was all limbs, a first-year who easily towered over me. Good kid and a damn good player. A lot of heart. Too bad Coach hardly put him in. 

I gave a lax smile as I caught it. “Sorry, bucko. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Even if he was,” Yoshida started, shooting a cold glance over his shoulder, “we don’t need him. We’ve been playing just fine without him. Besides, he’s probably lost his touch.”

I positioned the volleyball in my hands and it fit as easy as a glove, the lines running horizontally against my fingers, and stood up. I tossed it up, pulling my arm back to aim before hitting the it with everything I had. The ball shot through the air, hitting the backboard of the basketball goal and landing through the net with a satisfactory swish. And I couldn’t help the little bubble of pride that swelled in my chest.

_I really should’ve that through – holy crap._

I turned back to Yoshida. “You were saying?”

“All right, Yoshida, leave him alone before Coach tears us a new one.” Iwaizumi walked over with Oikawa.

The others snickered, and Yoshida was about to make a comeback when Coach Takahashi stepped into the gym, shouting at us to break it up. He grinned when he saw me. “Tetsurou! What a pleasant surprise. You here to join the ranks again?

“Just here to watch. Trying to kill some time.”

He deflated. “That’s too bad.” He then blew the whistle around his neck and shouted at his team. “What’re you waiting for? A written invitation? Get warming up or you’ll be running suicides for all those turnovers!”

They scattered and lined up on the baseline before taking off to do some light jogging up and down the court. Man, I missed this. I had half a mind to bust into the locker room and throw on that jersey and those shoes and work them back into shape.

“How’re things going at home?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Could be better.”

“Still don’t think you’d be able to juggle the team?” His voice was hopeful. “Another scout came by looking for you.”

Among the pile of bills there had been numerous colleges offering full rides if I played volleyball for them. The thought of filling out an application had crossed my mind more than once, until Kei needed help opening a can of Spaghetti-O’s. 

“No can do.”

Coach Takahashi nodded. “I understand.” He returned to coaching.

I watched them run through some blocking and spiking drills and a small scrimmage for the last ten minutes of practice. They looked confident – maybe a little too confident.

“Watch how it’s done, Kuroo,” Yoshida exclaimed. He was a setter and yipped just like a little dog. “You’re gonna regret quitting by the time this is through.”

“Enlighten me, please,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

Coach gave Yoshida’s team first serve, and they were off. As the scrimmage wore on, the gap in skill level became very clear. Take Kozume Kenma, a setter who only played in a handful of games despite his high skill level, against Yoshida, who played every game, and sooner or later it’s obvious who had the most confidence.

I glanced at the old clock on the wall. The bell would ring soon. I gathered my bag just as Oikawa walked out onto the court as a pinch server. Coach was always harder on him than the others, constantly pushing him. Maybe Coach saw some hidden potential in him – who knew.

Oikawa was a hell of a server. If Iwaizumi and Bokuto’s strength as wing spikers didn’t rattle the other team, it was Oikawa’s sheer power and accuracy that made them second guess their choices. I was proud to be part of this team, this family that I had found.

“You headed out, Tetsurou?” Coach called.

I nodded. “Gotta pick up my brother.”

“Well, take care of yourself,” he said.

“You, too.” And when I looked towards the door, I could’ve sworn I saw the same guy from earlier peeking into the gym.

The final bell sounded before I reached the front of the elementary school, and kids of all ages poured through the doors and fled to waiting parents who held promises of hot chocolate and oven-cooked meals. Complete. Healthy. Whole. But Kei would wait for me by the entrance in the cold. For his surrogate parent to take him home.

A crowd of kids cleared.

And Kei wasn’t there.

Shit.

Well, maybe he was just running a little behind. He asked for extra practice homework sometimes. I hung around the entrance and watched families pass by. 

“Tetsurou.” Kei’s teacher walked over with a young boy in tow. “What’re you doing?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Waiting for Kei?”

“Oh.” She seemed genuinely surprised. “You just missed him.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“He said you weren’t able to pick him up, so he walked.”

I tore my keys from my pocket. “When does he ever walk?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t exactly a reliable mode of transportation.”

I stormed away and hopped in my truck, speeding out of the parking lot. I swear, this kid would be the death of me! What in the world was he thinking – running off like that? He knew better!

I weaved through the winding roads, peering into shops and alleyways with the tiniest sliver of hope he had stopped in one of them, but, because life is an asshole, red, blue, and white flashed behind me.

I groaned. “If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any.”

Pulling over to the side of the road in a residential area, the police cruiser followed suit. The officer stepped out of his vehicle as I fished out my license and insurance and rolled down the window. Not like I’m in a hurry or anything.

“License and registration,” he said.

I handed them off, glancing at his nametag. Officer Sato. Duly noted.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you have any idea how fast you were going, son?”

I saw the speed limit, officer. I just didn’t see you.

“Sorry,” I said. “My little brother left school when he wasn’t supposed to and went home. I’m going there right now.” So I lied. I wasn’t completely sure of Kei’s whereabouts, but I needed this cop off my back.

There was a different kind of light in his eyes as he nodded. “I’ll be back. Just sit tight.”

I put my head on the steering wheel. Oh yeah. Kei would definitely be getting an earful if I found him. When I found him. When.

The officer came back a few minutes later with my license and registration – and nothing else. He smiled. “I’ve got a boy about your age and a little girl. I know if she left without him knowing, he’d speed around town looking for her, too. So, I’m letting you off with a warning.”

It took a minute for his words to register, and even then, I could only dumbly express my thanks.

“Not a problem,” he said. “Just be more careful from now on.”

I nodded once and didn’t give it a second thought when he left. I was off towards home again (albeit at a much slower pace), reeling to a halt in front of a convenience store when a mop of sandy blonde hair approached the counter with a dark blue backpack.

I barely managed to park the truck before jumping out and barging into the store. My brother was talking to the cashier, and the latter kept shaking his head.

“Kei!” I shouted. He calmly turned around, expression blank. I grabbed his shoulders. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The cashier piped up. He was young, probably early 20s. “He keeps trying to apply for a job here. This is the fourth time this week he’s been by. I’ve been explaining to him that there’s something called child labor laws, but he’s persistent.”

There was accusation in his eyes. Judgment.

“Sorry for all the trouble.” I threw out my best grin and led my brother to the door. “Let’s go.”

I shut off the radio once we were on the road again. “What the hell was that about?”

“Nothing.” He stared out the window. “It was nothing.”

“Going in there four times a week trying to get a job doesn’t seem like a whole lot of ‘nothing’,” I said. “What the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

He still didn’t look at me. “I’m aware.”

“Then why?” I didn’t even notice the rise in my voice. “Why? You can’t just run off like that! What if Fujioka-san had seen you? Or worse – that new social worker? Do you wanna go back to Hokkaido? Or go live with some other family?”

“Of course not,” he said. He gripped his knees, hands tightening until his knuckles were pasty white.

“You’re still not answering my question. Why would you do this when–?”

“To help you!” he snapped. 

I stopped in front of our house, or quaint little nothing, and the sound of the engine purring was the sound between us for a while. Hard-headed kid. I couldn’t fight off a tight-lipped smile. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with our lack of luxury, would it?”

The fringe of his blonde hair kept his eyes hidden. “I see the bills, Tetsurou. I know that we don’t have a lot of money. I’m not an idiot.”

I listened as his voice broke.

“I don’t want Fujioka-san to leave.” He still didn’t look at me, but I could tell that the tears he so desperately wanted to keep at bay were close to spilling. “I don’t wanna go back to Hokkaido. I don’t wanna go live with anyone else. I like Fujioka-san. I – I like our house. I like my friends. I want to stay here.”

I reached over and wrapped my arms around my little brother, and he curled into me, gripping onto my shirt. “I’m sorry for being so hard on you,” I said. “You’re just trying to  
help, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it. But this is something for me alone to worry about.”

“You can’t just expect me to forget about this!” he looked up at me, eyes hard and cold as ice. “I can’t ignore what’s right in front of me!”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do,” I said, and he opened his mouth to speak but clamped it shut when I continued. “You have other things to deal with – like homework, cooties, and snack time.”

He glanced at me, irritated. “We don’t even have snack time anymore.”

“You knew what I meant.” I roughed up his hair. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re just a little kid. Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up.”

“I’m not little,” he protested and sat up with pride despite his tear-rimmed eyes. He wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I’m almost nine years old.”

“And you still have to sleep with the hall light.” I smirked.

He turned the color of a ripe tomato. “You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me!”

I laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with it. To tell you the truth, I wet the bed until I was your age.”

“Really?”

“Totally?”

Normally, I wouldn’t be telling him this. (It’d bite me in the ass one day.) And normally, Kei wouldn’t be opening himself up, letting himself be exposed. Vulnerable. He kept his emotions in check – a soldier on the battlefield. I admired him for that.

He let out a weak chuckle. “That’s gross.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Is that why Uncle Taro was so mad at you all the time?”

If he only knew.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why.”

I made it a point to get out of the truck and Kei followed, stretching out his legs to fall in stride with me.

“I mean,” he continued, “he didn’t have to kick us out. They were accidents. He should’ve understood.”

He should’ve understood a lot of things, kiddo.

“I agree.” I unlocked the door and let Kei inside the warm of our little home.

Our quaint little something.

 

_**Monday – December 10, 2012** _

 

I didn’t go to school this morning.

I would’ve gone if one of my coworkers made it to work, so I took it upon myself to take his shift with my afternoon one, which I didn’t mind. Extra work meant extra money. And that meant Kei would eat another day. If I got my ass in gear, I’d have enough time to make it home before Mrs. Vale showed up.

It was closing time. I was the only one left, and I had just sent my last customer on her merry way. I was wiping down some of my tools with the red rag in my pocket when there was the familiar squeal of brakes and a slamming door.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” I called out, not bothering to look over my shoulder as I cleaned my hands. The only response was feet shuffling closer to me. “Look, pal – oh.”

The customer standing before me looked familiar. His cheeks were flushed, dark hair tousled, and his blue sweater and jeans didn’t look much better. A tad bit of a slender frame. He kind of looked like an annoyed bird, feathers ruffled and irritation riddling off of him. But that didn’t take away from the fact that he was undeniably _handsome._ Like in the unfair kind of way.

“Please.” He rubbed his temples. “I stalled out twice on the way here. I just – I need to find out what’s wrong with the car. I’ll pay you overtime. Please help me.”

I sighed and glanced at the clock. I had at most 30 minutes until Fujioka-san arrived. “All right. Let’s have a look.”

“Thank you so much.” He led me out to the vehicle. An old, white 2000 Ford Explorer that had probably seen better days.

I wrinkled my nose. “It’s the gas tank.”

“What?” he blinked, tilting his head a bit.

Scratch the bird. He looked like a confused puppy.

“You don’t smell it?”

He sniffed the air and recoiled a bit.

I got on my hands and knees to take a look underneath, and sure enough, there was a leak. “Actually, it might be a gas line. It’s an old car, so it’s not uncommon.”

“We got into a small fender bender on our way into town,” he said.

I chuckled and stood, dusting the dirt form my hands. “Yup, that’ll do it. Unfortunately, I don’t know the full extent of the damage and we’re closed for the day.” His shoulders slumped and I did well to rebound. “But, I’ll be back in the morning. I can give you a ride home if you want.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He shook his head. “I’ll walk.”

“You’ll walk. From out here.” I lifted an eyebrow. “And were exactly do you live?”

He hesitated. “On Tama Road. We moved in about a week ago.”

Why was I just now seeing him?

Then it clicked.

“You’re the guy I saw yesterday! The one waiting for the volleyball team.”

He reddened and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Two new kids within just days of each other? No wonder the town was buzzing with gossip. Man, these people needed something better do with their time.

“C’mon.” I grinned somewhat and started shutting the shop down. “It’s the least I could do since I can’t exactly fix your car right now.” I headed for my truck, stopping when I realized he wasn’t following. “You coming?”

“Oh, um…” he trailed off, rounding the passenger side. “Sure. Thank you.”

I turned down the radio once we were closer to town. “So, what brings you here to Marumori?”

He just stared out the window.

I furrowed my brow. He didn’t say much else besides giving me directions to his house (that I didn’t actually need). This wasn’t going to fly. Not in my vehicle.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way.”

He squeezed his hands together, much like Kei did when he was nervous. Jeez, this guy was acting like I was gonna bite his head off. (Okay, maybe I’ve been told once or twice that I could be intimidating, but come on! I’m a nice guy! I’ve always been this kind.) “Akaashi. Akaashi Keiji.”

Finally, a normal answer!

“Nice to meet you, Akaashi. Where’re you from?”

He just looked at me. “Okinawa.”

“That’s pretty cool. I grew up in a small town in Hokkaido, though I was born in Okayama.”

He made a small, passive noise, though I could’ve sworn he muttered something.

I took a left and the central part of town was humming with activity, ranging from women toting shopping bags to kids having snowball fights, things I never really had a chance to experience. And a change of pace wasn’t always bad.

Akaashi continued watching people, letting the conversation die away.

“So, you looking to try out for the volleyball team?” I asked.

“Pardon?”

“Are you gonna try out for the volleyball team?” The guy didn’t have an ounce of muscle on his body, but I was sure that with a little – a lot – of training, he’d be in top notch. “You were watching them practice and seemed pretty interested. You should totally do it. Are you any good?”

“Take a right at the stop sign,” he said to his lap.

What’d I do now?

I turned onto the next street and followed the road until the hustle and bustle of the main part of town was behind us and eased into the next right turn on Tama Road.

“Second house on your left,” he muttered, and I busted a U-turn to park.

It was a two-story, white, wood-paneled abode with a balcony and even a little porch swing. There wasn’t another car in the driveway, so he and whoever he lived with were stuck without transport. What luck.

“Nice house,” I said.

He slid out of my truck. “Thank you again for bringing me home. I greatly appreciate it.”

“Not a problem,” I said. “Oh, hey – do you need a ride to school tomorrow? Your car will be fixed first thing, so it’ll be ready by the time you get out.”

“No, thank you.” Akaashi shook his head. “I can walk.”

“You gonna walk to the auto shop, too?”

He opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it.

“It’s not a big deal. I literally live right down the street. I’m taking my brother there, anyway.”

He finally nodded. “I’d like that, if you don’t mind.”

“There, that wasn’t so bad,” I said. “My little brother waits for me by the front doors. You can wait there, too.”

He nodded again and shut the door.

I took off after Akaashi had gone inside. Kei was waiting for me, and hopefully without the company of Mrs. Vale. She’d tear me a new one if she found my brother home alone again.

Don’t be there, don’t be there, don’t be there – yes!

The blue Prius wasn’t in front of our house when I arrived. I’d finally beaten her to the punch.

But inside the house, in the living area, there was a plate full of the chocolate cupcakes she promised sealed with saran wrap resting on the coffee table, untouched. And my brother curled into himself, a blanket draped over his shoulders.

“Kei, what’s wrong?” I asked. “What happened?”

He lifted his head, shaking as tears ran along with round cheeks. “F-Fujioka-san, she…”

“She came by already?”

He sniveled. “L-Left early. Said she was s-sorry.” He buried his face in the blanket.

Next to the platter was a single note, and I immediately recognized our former social worker’s ornate handwriting.

I crushed the paper in my hand.

_Take care of your brother._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry that this is.... four weeks late. But between being sick for almost a week and then shit hitting the fan with my family I haven't had much motivation to write. I'm just starting to get back into the groove of things so I thank you for being patient. 
> 
> I truly appreciate it.


	4. Keiji: Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your soulmate is not someone that comes into your life peacefully. It is who comes to make you question things, who changes your reality, somebody that marks a before and after in your life. It is not the human being everyone has idealized, but an ordinary person, who manages to revolutionize your world in a second.”  
> – Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Homophobic insults are used in this chapter.

**_Monday – December 10, 2012_ **

“I’m home,” I called out as I slipped off my shoes and entered the family room.

My voice echoed in the extra space of our home, reminding me of how much bigger this house was compared to the one back in Okinawa. Two extra bedrooms that would’ve accommodated my older brothers and I perfectly while we were growing up with another room to spare. There definitely wouldn’t have been as much complaining about sharing a room with each other. And growing up with three older brothers gave me plenty of practice in feeling small. 

“Keiji!” Mother poked her head out from the kitchen. “Welcome home! I’m glad you’ve made it back safely, dear.”

My father was on the couch, newspaper in hand. “How’d it go with the car?”

“Broken gas line. They were closed, so I left it. But he said it’ll be fixed by tomorrow morning,” I said. “One of the guys still working was nice enough to give me a ride home. His name is Kuroo Tetsurou.”

Mother’s voice rose a slight octave. “You rode in a car with a complete stranger? Keiji, do you know how incredibly dangerous that is? We shouldn’t have to tell you this.”

Well, given that I knew his name he wasn’t a _total_ stranger. I mean he seemed nice enough.

That’s the thing about growing up with strict parents: the people you meet could be literal saints and they still wouldn’t be good enough.

“I wasn’t sure what else to do.” I looked at the hardwood, the cold seeping through my socks. I would’ve walked – _could’ve_ walked – but I’d be home well past curfew. “I’m sorry.”

Mother’s voice softened. “We’re not angry with you, Keiji. We just want you to be careful. We aren’t back home anymore, you can’t trust everyone.”

“I’m aware,” I said.

“Mind your mother, Keiji.” Father flipped to the next page. 

I nodded. 

“Have you thought anymore about what I asked?” Father looked at me.

Since my father was climbing in age, he pulled me aside one day before we moved here and wondered what I thought about taking over his medical practice when the time came. He was a pediatrician, almost 20 years in the making. And honestly, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. 

We’d moved here mainly because one of Father’s very good friends (Watanabe Hiroki, I believe) was moving to another town, so he asked if my father wanted to take up the job here in Marumori since he trusted no one else. And Father, being the man that he was, couldn’t ignore a good friend so he accepted in a heartbeat. This town being as small as it was, change wasn’t something that came without some sort of resistance but he managed. Everyone came to love him, something I didn’t know if I could ever do. I had a hard-enough time talking to someone my own age.

We’d also moved here because of Mother. She was offered a job helping people in difficult situations over in Sendai, which my mother couldn’t say no to, especially since she grew up in a similar way. She used to be a social worker, but had given that up when my brothers and I were born, so she started working again to help me go to a good college.

All in all, Father made sure I never forgot what he asked of me.

He wanted an answer, and I wanted to give it to him – I really did. But there was something off, something that never let the word “yes” go free. Something holding me back. It walked on eggshells, testing for sure footing. It was killing me. Part of me really wanted to make my family proud and uphold the tradition. The town I grew up in was small: 5,000 people. Everyone knew everyone, much like here. And while my parents had known my peers since preschool, I wasn’t allowed to stay out past ten and hang out at their house or wherever they were going. Not that I asked often. I never seemed to fit in anyway.

The other part of me… didn’t know what it wanted. It walked on eggshells, testing ground here and there to grab a sure footing. This uncertainty – this hesitation – killed me. It ate at me day by day. It knew that stepping up as the town pediatrician wasn’t going to cut it. Medical school wasn’t something on my agenda.

Why couldn’t he have handed this off to one of my older brothers? 

“I have,” I said. “I’ve yet to make a decision.”

He nodded. “Well, don’t dwell on it for too much longer. How was your first day of school?”

“Fine,” I replied. _It was terrible._

“Were people nice?” Mother chimed in.

“Yes,” I nodded. _They were rude._

Her smile returned. “Good. Now, go get washed up for dinner. Katsuro should be here any minute now.”

Oh. Right.

Katsuro was the oldest, and we didn’t exactly get along. He was constantly criticizing me, from the way I dressed to the words I chose. He had made himself scarce since his son was born, and travelling between Okinawa and Tokyo wasn’t exactly cheap while toting a wife and two kids. Although, one would think that being a stock broker would provide enough funding for at least the holidays.

I’d rather have Katsuki here. Or maybe…

I moved up to my room to drop off my backpack, the blank walls staring at me, and making me feel much smaller than I already did. I buried my hands in my jacket. It was freezing in here.

My room was simple: bed, bookcase filled with what literature my parents deemed acceptable, dresser, a desk that was now occupied by my backpack, and barren white walls. Pop culture wasn’t exactly a thing for us growing up so I didn’t know much about it. All I knew was that if my mother ever caught a poster of a famous singer or found out that I was listening to music that wasn’t allowed, they’d tear me a new one.

“Katsuro!” Mother sang form downstairs as the front door shut.

I shrank into myself.

“Keiji!” she hollered. “Come down! Your brother is here!”

I put on my best smile as I made my way down.

“No way!” Katsuro grinned. “That’s not our baby Keij, is it? It couldn’t be!”

I huffed. “It’s Keiji. And I’m not a baby anymore.”

He walked up to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, still towering a couple of inches over me, and those couple of inches were all he needed. “You’ve grown! Granted, you’ve still got a little ways to go before you catch up, but I’ll give you credit.”

I pushed his hand away. I’d hit a growth spurt this past summer, shooting form 5’6” to 5’11”. “Maybe you’re just abnormally tall.”

“Boys, settle down,” Father said. “Your mother has prepared a nice dinner since Katsuro came all this way to see us.”

“The house looks nice,” my brother commented as we headed to the dining room. “It’s big.”

I settled in the chair next to Mother as she placed a large bowl of nikujaga before us.

Father smiled at Katsuro, who was at his right. “It’s good to have you here, son. How’re Yuki and Hiroko doing?” My niece and nephew respectively.

Katsuro served himself a helping of food. “They caught the flu a few days ago, otherwise I would’ve brought them with me.”

“That’s just awful,” Mother said. “What about Asami?” His wife.

“She’s fine. Flu free.”

“Are you all coming down for Christmas?”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled but then quickly changed the topic. “Have you heard from Kazuki? I can’t seem to get ahold of him.”

You may have noticed that all our names start with ‘K’. No, it’s not just you, and yes, my parents were well aware of what they were doing when they named us. Or at least they claim to know what they were doing. I think that by the time I was born they figured they might as well keep the trend going. It’s a running joke within our family.

Mother’s voice was light and full of affection. “You know Kazuki – he’s never been much of a talker. But he’s busy with art school. He’s actually showcasing one of his pieces in America sometime next month. It’s a really big deal to him so we’re going to over there and see him.”

Katsuro scoffed. “I don’t understand why you let him follow such a ridiculous ambition. How is he going to make a living by painting and sculpting? It’s nonsense.”

“Not everyone can be what you deem worthy, Katsuro,” Father said. “You work with numbers, he works with colors. He’s happy so just leave him be.”

I stirred my soup, suddenly having lost my appetite in the looming shadow of my successful older brothers.

“So.” Katsuro changed the subject once again. “How’re you liking public school, Keiji?”

I shrugged. “It was good. Nothing too groundbreaking.”

Mother had homeschooled me all of my life until now. But with the move and her new job, they had to enroll me in public school. And I’ve had little experience interacting with other people my age, even back home I was awkward and out of place. Watching them converse and laugh about people I’ve never heard of and were supposedly famous made me nervous.

It was overwhelming.

But they didn’t seem so bad – at least not as bad as Mother and Father made them out to be. They were a little loud and rowdy, and dressed differently, a little less formal, but they were decent people. Well, the ones that bothered to talk to me for more than five seconds.

I met a student named Sugawara Koushi, and he helped me find my way around after our biology class. He said he was a new student too and try not to take the stares personally. There was another student, Chie, who talked to me in history.

Katsuro deflated. “Aw, nothing interesting happened? I always thought public schools were much more, um, spirited. You didn’t make any friends?”

“No,” I said.

Father interjected. “Keiji’s a good judge of character.”

The only interesting thing that happened today was finding out the school had a volleyball team. I had always wanted to try out for volleyball the moment I caught a couple of minutes of the Olympics on television when I was about four.

They seemed so free, jumping through the air and sending the ball flying like it was a bullet. I’ve never been very athletic, but I wanted to try. And if I didn’t make it, then so be it. But I knew my parents wouldn’t let me. They’d keel over.

“That’s too bad,” Katsuro said. “You need to break out of your shell, little brother. You never even bothered to make friends back home.”

I clutched my chopsticks, staring at my dinner.

“Katsuro, don’t be so hard on him,” Father said. “It was his first day. He’ll make friends soon enough.”

His face twisted in skepticism. “Are you sure it was such a good idea to send him to public school?”

“You know I would still homeschool him if I could,” Mother said.

Katsuro raised an eyebrow. “Then why not just wait until January? This semester is almost over. He could’ve missed all those exams.

“Your brother was persistent,” Father said. “We were worried about what might happen, of course, but Keiji wouldn’t be swayed. So, we let him.”

“Those exams are such a pain to deal with, I hear.”

“Keiji’s intelligent. He’ll pass with flying colors.”

Mother looked at me. “Keiji, sweetie, are you going to be okay handling those exams so soon?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. I would be okay. I didn’t have a choice. Grades below A’s weren’t allowed in this household.

“Oh, you’re never gonna believe who I ran into at the airport before I came here,” Katsuro said, gaining our parents’ undivided attention. “Kichirou.”

A tumultuous silence I hadn’t felt in years fell over us.

 _“What?”_ Mother spoke first, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “You saw him at the airport?”

“Yeah, he was with one of his bum friends or something. He saw me, but he didn’t say hello.”

Father’s eyes were ice. “He’s always been a problem child.”

Katsuro scoffed. “No kidding.”

Kichirou was the third born. And the brother I was closest to. He was the one my parents relied on to follow my father’s footsteps, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to live according to our life choices, so he took off when he was 18. As a result, speaking of him was strictly taboo, speaking to him was even worse. Sometimes, they pretended like he didn’t exist. Sometimes, they talked about him like he was dead.

I walked the straight and narrow after Kichirou left, never straying too far to one side, because I didn’t know if I could handle the way my parents looking at me the way they looked at him.

Father cleared his throat. “Keiji, don’t forget, your mother and I are going to Chiba this week to visit some family friends.”

Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot.

Maybe I’d be able to stay home alone this time. I was 17 and more than capable of taking care of myself. Maybe they’d trust me enough to –

“And Katsuro will be here to keep you company and looks after you,” Mother said.

My chopsticks scraped against my plate. 

Katsuro smiled. “We’re going to have so much fun this weekend, little brother.”

So that’s why he was here. To babysit.

“I can’t wait,” I said.

Dinner ended soon after, and I was thankful for the moment I was able to retreat to my room for the evening. Katsuro, Mother, and Father stayed up talking about Yuki, and Hiroko, and life in Tokyo as I settled in the sheets in the dark, waiting for sleep to take me when a tiny light from my nightstand caught my attention.

In a small, bold font on the phone screen, there was no name but an area code I recognized.

Kichirou.

 

_**Tuesday – December 11, 2012** _

 

Mother made me scrambled eggs and toast the next morning before I headed off to school. I was quiet as I ate, and Mother finally sat down across from me with a cup of coffee, watching me.

“Keiji, I know you don’t get along with Katsuro,” she said after a beat of silence, tapping her polished nails on the side of the mug. “Even so, please try to get along with him while we’re gone. He’s hard on you, but it’s only because he loves you.”

I nodded. “I know. He only does it because he cares.”

She placed her hand on mine and smiled. “He does care about you. He just has a funny way of showing it.”

This wasn’t the first time she had justified Katsuro’s “tough love”. It was nothing personal as he treated Kazuki and Kichirou the same way and nothing was ever said. But now, it was just me, bearing all of his condescension without the other two to help. He was my elder brother, and I loved him, of course I did, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Yes, I know,” I said and rose from my seat. “I’m going to be late. Thank you for breakfast.” I hoisted my backpack on my shoulder. “Have a good day.”

She handed me a small Styrofoam cup of coffee and smiled. “Here. To help keep you warm.”

“Thank you.” I sighed upon seeing the empty driveway.

Hopefully the car would be ready by the end of the day, and Kuroo didn’t seem to be the type to go back on his word, as I placed a small amount of trust in him. And also because I didn't want to get chewed out later.

I started in the general direction of my class, glancing at my schedule to make sure I had the right room. And, as a result of my failing to pay attention, I hit a wall and my drink went everywhere. Well, it wasn’t exactly a wall. But it sure felt like one. I looked to see who I bumped into, with an apology playing at my lips, but it died away as soon as I met the burning glare as the other person hissed in pain.

“You clumsy little shit!” He pushed me. “Look what you did!”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, retreating another step and my back met the lockers.

This guy was huge, towering over me with ease, and his letterman jacket, embroidered with the number 14, only broadened his shoulders. The other two next to him were clad in the exact same jackets, and they, too, had a solid two inches of height over me.

Students were starting to gather around, speaking in whispers, obviously interested in what was about to unfold. Their eyes danced with anticipation, unspoken cheers withheld on their tongues.

I bit my lip.

I was going to leave this school one of two ways: on a stretcher or with my tail between my legs.

“You ruined my shirt, numbnuts!” the guy shouted, his dark eyes ablaze.

“It was an accident.” I had to figure out a way to get out of this and fast.

A boy with silver hair and cat-like eyes but definitely taller than the both of us spoke up as he passed by. “Hey, he said he was sorry. Let’s just leave him alone and go to class.”

The one looming over me spun on his heel. “Shut up, Lev! This doesn’t concern you!”

Now was my chance, while he was distracted.

I inched away, back still flush against the lockers, to try and make my escape. But I was stopped short by a hand slamming into the locker right next to my face and it clattered in my ears.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

He grabbed the collar of my shirt. “’Sorry’ isn’t gonna cut it, newbie!”

“Yoshida!” an unknown voice shouted from the crowd. “That’s enough!”

The group parted to reveal a student with gravity defying white-grey hair and the fiercest golden eyes I had ever seen.

“Bokuto?” Yoshida spat. “Since when do you care about the new kids?”

He stepped in front of me and pried Yoshida’s hand from my shirt. “He said it was an accident, so lay off, would ya?”

What in the world was he doing? Was he expecting to fight this guy? I mean, he was built – solid. There was obvious muscle shifting under the school uniform. He was also very handsome – stop checking him out, Keiji. Stop it!

He smirked. “This guy’s got a pretty face. Maybe it’s one you’d like to sit on.”

Bokuto’s face pinched in a savage scowl, hair bristled in anger, and his eyes represented a literal fire.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” Yoshida said.

This time, Bokuto was the one to sneer. “Bring it, tough guy. Your time on this volleyball team is already limited. I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that we wouldn’t mind you disappearing.”

“Bokuto.” Another voice cut in, this one much more leveled, and all heads turned. A boy with spiked jet black hair and contrasting forest eyes walked towards us. His face was twisted into a slight scowl that made him look intimidating. At least to me.

Someone else was standing next to him. This person was tall, with sweeping, styled brunette hair, and dark, almost dead chocolate eyes. While I can readily admit that he’s handsome, it doesn’t take away that all I can really pay attention to is the large bruise surrounding his left eye. It was yellowing, further in turning a shade of purple before darkening.

A smile lit his face. One that definitely didn’t reach his eyes. It was razor sharp, threatening. “Yoshida-chan! So nice of you to give a big, warm welcome to our new student! I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment but we’ll take it from here.”

The more intimidating one heaved a sigh. “Picking fights again, I see, Bokuto.” He stopped at Bokuto’s side, his friend close behind, and crossed his arms. “When will you ever learn?”

Bokuto pointed to Yoshida, evidently offended by the accusation. “He started it, Iwaizumi! He was beating up on the new kid!”

The one now known as Iwaizumi peered at me over his shoulder. “You okay?”

I nodded, the words catching in my throat. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Good,” the still unnamed brunette piped up again with a sugar sweet tone, and turned back to Yoshida. “Now, you’ve had a pretty solid reputation as a member of our volleyball team, and I’m sure you know that fighting is strictly against club policy. So, I suggest you scatter. I just saw the principal on my way here. And he didn’t look too happy.”

Yoshida scoffed. “Yeah? And what’re you gonna do, Oikawa?”

“Me? Nothing. But I’m sure your father will,” Oikawa said. “Wouldn’t want any trouble with daddy now, would we? After all, he does run this school. I’d hate to be the one to piss him off.”

The crowd dispersed like ants – some hung around their lockers, others hauled themselves to class. Yoshida was one of the last few to go and threw one last glare at us before storming away with his teammates.

Bokuto dusted imaginary dirt from her hands and looked at me. “That could’ve gone a lot worse.” His eyes were softer now, soft and warm, and he gave a bright smile. “Sorry about that.”

_Think of something to say, Keiji. Anything!_

I shook my head.

His smile widened. “Pay him no mind. Yoshida barks a lot but he’s harmless, not all the volleyball players are assholes. Take us for example!”

I stayed quiet.

He punched Iwaizumi lightly on the arm. “Especially this guy right here.” He simply smiled at the glare Iwaizumi gave him. “That’s Oikawa Tooru, that’s Iwaizumi Hajime, and I’m Bokuto Koutarou. What’s your name, stranger?”

“Akaashi Keiji,” I muttered.

I was worried he hadn’t heard me, but he nodded.

“Nice to meet you, Akaashi.” A chuckle bubbled past his lips. “So, what’d you think? I handled that pretty well huh?

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and turned to me. “Need any help finding your class?”

“We’d be more than happy to give you a proper escort.” Oikawa smiled again, but this time it was lighter and more natural.

I stared at my feet. Don’t be a bother, Keiji. “No, I know where it is.” I shifted a bit. “I’m afraid I must be going now. Thank you for your help.”

And even as I left I could feel their eyes on me.

Nonetheless, nothing too eventful happened in my literature class besides the fact that I avoided any and all eye contact with Bokuto when he walked into the room. I sat in the middle, right in the mix but not exactly the center of attention, no matter the amount of stares I received from other students might say. It didn’t look like he spotted me.  
Biology, I hoped would prove to be much more interesting than some guy name Ryu.

**

I sat in the back of the chilly room, keeping my head down and away from the eyes of the other students. I fidgeted in my seat, wringing my hands. Fukui-sensei was an all-around nice teacher, but strict. He expected class participation and thus called on anyone who he deemed wasn’t paying attention, and had told us he would make sure we passed – even if he had to drag us kicking and screaming. He also had quite the temper.

“Hey, Akaashi!”

I turned to my right and came face to face with Sugawara and his megawatt grin. He looked even sicker than yesterday, his voice was grating, like sand against concrete. “Good  
morning, Sugawara.”

“Please, call me Suga.”

“Suga,” I tried. That was a little easier.

He opened up his notebook which was full of doodles instead of actual biology notes. Birds, foxes, rabbits. Some in motion. Some stationary. Elaborate sketches that carried more life than he ever seemed to. (Was that a sketch of a mitochondria?) 

“So, how was your first day?” he asked. “You learning your way around here?”

“I’m faring well enough.”

He grinned again. “Great! I hope everyone is treating you well.”

I thought back to what happened this morning, and I could hear the locker slam in my ears again “Everyone is treating me fine, thank you.”

He nudged my shoulder. “Before I forget, if you want, you can come join me, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi for lunch today.”

I knew I should decline. Mother and Father didn’t want me spending a lot of time with anyone they didn’t approve of, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious. I wanted to see if the people here were really as horrible as my parents made them out to be. I wanted to learn more about them and how they interacted. I wanted to fit in.

I nodded. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

“Sweet! They meet in the courtyard. You know where that is, right?”

“Well, yes,” I said. “But why outside? It’s cold.”

Suga barked out a laugh. “Trust me, I asked myself the same thing. I’m just tagging along for the ride. Did you pack a lunch?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“You can share with me,” he said. “What’s your third period? Maybe we can meet up and walk together.”

I snuck a quick glance at the slip of paper on the table. “Health.”

“Perfect! Mine’s computer science. It’s just two rooms over. I’ll meet you.”

I nodded.

“All right, pipsqueaks!” Fukui-sensei slammed a textbook on the podium at the front of the room, making everyone jump. He smiled. “Time to learn!”

**

We were released us at 11:20.

Third period. Health. Or rather sexual education – was that the term they used? Either way, it was disconcerting, to say the least. None of my peers were fazed, like they’d heard this a thousand times. They looked, well, bored. In short, I wasn’t very hungry anymore.

As the other students rushed up and down the stairs to find friends, I stood back against the wall, keeping an eye out for the shining silver hair I had committed to memory.

Suga’s sandpaper voice came through the roar of the crowd. “How was class?”

“Um, it was interesting enough.” I tightened my hold on the book in my hands. _Almost Transparent Blue_ had been given to me in literature to read so I could adequately write the final exam essay. I’d never heard of it, but I was immensely intrigued. “Different than what I’m used to. My parents don’t really talk about this.”

Suga raised an eyebrow. “Have you been living under a rock?”

Feels like I have been. 

I followed Suga down the stairs once the hallway cleared out a bit. The pages tickled my fingertips as I flicked through them. “You know, I’ve never heard of this story. Or the author, now that I think about it. Is it good?”

Suga made a noise of uncertainty. “It definitely wasn’t one of my favorites. But you might like it.”

I evaded a younger student whizzing by. “I see.”

The brisk winter afternoon was swift to grab my attention for a moment before it was directed back to Suga who tugged on my jacket sleeve, beckoning me to follow. His steps were a lot more confident than mine as we approached the table, and he eventually gained some ground on me while I hung back a bit.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi were definitely there. But so was Bokuto.

I took another step forward when Suga waved me over, and Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Bokuto all drew their attention to me. An earsplitting grin spread over Bokuto’s strong face and he ran right up to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the table and practically pushed me into the empty seat between him and Suga.

“Hey there, stranger!” he chirped. “I totally saw you duck when I walked into literature this morning. Don’t think you can get away from us that easily.”

“Here you go.” Suga held out half of a sandwich he had pulled from the brown paper sack in front of him. It oozed with peanut butter and – were those bananas? 

I looked at it then back to him. I’ve never had this before. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! I’ve got another one in here,” he said. “Besides, peanut butter and banana sandwiches are my favorite thing ever. I need to have someone to indulge in them with. Wanna try it?”

I took the offered half. “Thank you.”

“You guys are gonna have to really wash your hands after you’re done eating those,” Iwaizumi said. She started rummaging through her own lunch sack and pulled a bento box.

“Huh? Why?” Suga’s words were muffled by his food.

Iwaizumi pulled out a small tub of fruit. “Because Oikawa is deathly allergic to peanuts and the last thing I wanna do is have to stab him with an epi pin.”

Suga stopped chewing.

Oikawa opened his own boxed lunch and looked at his friend. “Iwa-chan, are you my mom?”

“The last time you said that you had to go to the hospital because you shoved two peanut butter cookies in your mouth at our elementary holiday party.”

“Worth it.”

Iwaizumi glared at him.

“So, Akaashi, tell us about you,” Bokuto said. “Where’re you from? I’m dying to know!”

I shifted in my seat. “Um, I’m from a small town in Okinawa. Nakijin.”

“Nakijin. What’s it like there?” Bokuto asked, leaning towards me with obvious interest. He seemed to be nothing but pure energy, radiating off him in waves instead of pulses never ending firecrackers going off in his eyes. He was an ember beside me, warm and welcome, and I didn’t quite know what to do with this flutter in my chest. This was foreign, new. 

I glanced off to the side. “Um, well, it’s a small town. 9,000 people. We’re close to the ocean, so I spent most of my time at the beach as a child. Very quiet. Peaceful.”

“So unlike here?” Oikawa said.

I nodded. “Yes.”

Bokuto slammed his hands on the table. “Maybe we can go there for break in the summer! Go to the beach! It’ll be great!”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “You do know there’s a beach 30 minutes away from here, right?” Oikawa nabbed an apple slice from the fruit in the Tupperware and Iwaizumi didn’t even blink.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not the point!” Bokuto said. “The point is that Akaashi gets to visit his hometown again! The beach is just a bonus.” 

Oikawa smirked. “If I didn’t know any better, Boku-chan, I’d say that you have a soft spot for little Akaa-chan here.”

Bokuto sputtered beside me. “W-What – w-well – I –”

Iwaizumi picked up a couple pieces of chicken from his lunch and stuffed them in his mouth. “Just like you have a soft spot for Suga, right, Oikawa?”

This time, Oikawa was the one to trip over his words, crying out “Iwa-chan!” and Iwaizumi only continued to eat. Suga laughed beside me, and the way it sounded it should’ve been painful but… his eyes remained surprisingly carefree and light.

They continued to converse amongst themselves, Iwaizumi nagging his friend and Suga trying to stay as far away from Oikawa as the seat would allow, and I couldn’t help but wonder…

Are they really as bad as my family claims?

**

Throughout the rest of my day, I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about lunch. I was awkward. And I didn’t know how to respond to their slew of questions. Suga and Bokuto were so loud and assertive. Oikawa was the quietest one, even if he did contribute to the conversation a bit, but he didn’t make things any easier by subjecting me to his analytical stare. Despite that, I had fun. It was enlightening to see how other teenagers acted with each other, how they fit into whatever little group they’ve formed – like pieces to a puzzle.

And now, here I was, waiting by the school’s entrance for Kuroo to come pick me and his little brother up. I wasn’t exactly sure who I should be looking for, and I sincerely hoped Kuroo had mentioned something to his brother otherwise it was going to get uncomfortable very quickly.

“Excuse me?”

I looked down and found a boy, maybe around eight or nine, with sandy blonde hair and honey eyes that carried about as much intensity as Bokuto’s but of a different kind. Probably more similar to Oikawa’s. He had a curious yet calculating look on his face, and for the briefest moment, I saw Kuroo in this boy.

“Yes?”

“Are you Akaashi Keiji?”

Good. He does know about me.

I nodded. “I am.”

“You’re riding home with us, right?” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Kuroo Kei. It’s nice to meet you.”

Quite mature for his age. I shook his hand. “Likewise.”

“I don’t know if Kuroo told you he has a knack for running late.” His eyes were sad, but he kept a firm expression that harbored a certain coldness that was far beyond his years.

“I see,” I said. “Maybe this time he’ll keep his word.”

Kei let out a small sigh, on the verge of saying something, only to be interrupted by a group of boys surrounding another, much smaller boy wearing a red beanie. One of them grabbed his shirt and shoved him down, earning a terrified look from the trembling child on the ground.

“You weirdo!” one of them called out. “Who freaks out about carrots touching peas?”

Kei went over and stood in between them all. “Leave him alone. He hasn’t done anything to you. Pick on someone your own size.”

The boy in rainbow shrank to his protector’s side.

“Yeah?” one of them jeered. Kei was tall for his age, but this kid was so much larger than Kei and the other boy in the red beanie, his voice significantly deeper. Probably a second or third year middle schooler. “After we’re done with the faggot’s little brother, you can be next!”

Faggot’s little brother?

One of his peers jabbed his friend with his elbow with a nasty smirk on his face. “Dude. Maybe they’re already boyfriends. They both deserve a solid beat-down in my opinion.”

I approached them with the intention of breaking up the fight until another figure crossed their paths.

“All right, that’s enough!” Oikawa walked up to them, anger twisting his face. “Get out of here! Now!”

The older boys took off in the opposite direction, and Oikawa helped the injured boy stand and dusted off his clothes. I went towards them again, clutching onto the strap of my backpack.

“Thank you, Kei,” Oikawa said and wiped the now sniveling boy’s bloody nose with his jacket sleeve. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, Shouyou.”

The one named Shouyou shook his head, sniffling a bit. “I-It’s okay, Tooru. I’m okay. I could’ve handled them.”

Kei scoffed. “Yeah, right. It was three against one and they’re in middle school.” He lowered his voice. “They need something better to do with themselves. Where was Tobio? Isn’t he usually with you?”

“He went home early. Thank you, Kei,” Shouyou smiled. “I owe you one. Maybe you can come over and watch movies some time.”

The blonde boy averted his gaze and kicked a rock. “Movies, huh? Well, I guess I could go over one of these days.”

Shouyou tugged at Oikawa’s sleeve, bouncing with delight, and having seemingly forgotten the altercation. “Did you hear that, Tooru? He said he might come over!”

A small smile crossed Oikawa’s face and he pat Shouyou’s head. “I did. But we have to make sure it’s okay with Mom first, all right?” When Shouyou nodded, Oikawa turned to me. “What’re you still doing here? I figured you would’ve broke camp a long time ago.”

“Oh, well, uh, I’m waiting here with Kei,” I said. “His brother is giving me a ride.”

He seemed content with that answer for he took Shouyou’s hand and started walking away. “You guys take care.”

“Bye, Kei!” Shouyou waved with an earsplitting grin. “Thanks again!”

Kei offered a small wave before shaking his head. “I swear, he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body.”

“Any particular reason why he’s getting picked on?” I asked.

“He’s what people would consider ‘different’. He’s always been a little spacey, perhaps more immature than most.”

But why did they call him “faggot’s little brother?” That didn’t make any sense.

I wanted to ask more questions, to know more about the inner workings of this small town, but the sound of Kuroo’s pickup truck puttering to a stop at the front of the school broke my train of thought. Kei wasted no time and climbed inside, leaving the passenger door open.

“Hey, slowpoke! You coming?” Kuroo called out with a smile.

“Yes,” I said, although too low for him to hear, and sat next to Kei.

He took off back towards the shop, turning down the radio that played music I had never heard before. It was upbeat, and the words were a little hard to understand, but it sounded nice overall.

Kuroo glanced over at me. “So, how was your second day?”

“It was fine.”

He was tapping his hands on the steering wheel. “Anything interesting happen?”

“I had the pleasure of meeting Oikawa, Bokuto, and Iwaizumi. They, uh, helped me when I got into a fight with one of the volleyball players.”

Kuroo’s tone took a sharp, irritated turn. “Let me guess: Yoshida.”

“How did you know?”

“The guy’s a Class-A asshole,” Kuroo said, then he glanced at his little brother. “Sorry, Kei. Anyway, the guy’s a jerk. He’s always looking to start something. If he keeps searching he might just find what he’s looking for.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “But I’m sorry you had such a bad start to your day. How was the rest of it?”

“It was good,” I answered. “I had lunch with Suga, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Bokuto.”

“Oh yeah? How’d that go?”

“It was definitely interesting. I didn’t really know how to answer all their questions.”

He laughed. “It’s ‘cause you’re new. Don’t worry, Suga’s new, too. I think he said he’s from Osaka or something like that.”

“You’re from Hokkaido, right?”

“Yeah. Kei and I moved here about a year ago when I turned 18.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Just the two of us.”

“Where are your parents? Aren’t they worried about you?” I asked.

It took me a moment to realize that the air around us had grown still, and I noticed Kei started to wring his hands together, his eyes not moving from the road ahead of us, and Kuroo’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

But then he smiled. “They live quite a ways away, so Kei here is in my care until we see them again.”

Kei looked at his brother and his voice was soft. “Tetsurou.”

“We’ll see them again.” Kuroo turned up the radio.

Was it something I said?

Kei gave me a small smile before turning away.

And then the truck squealed to a halt outside of the auto shop, and I spotted our family car parked safely outside it. I immediately climbed out and Kei scooted into the free space.

Kuroo tossed me the keys. “You gonna be all right from here, Keij?”

Usually any sort of nickname would’ve bothered me, given the fact that Katsuro sort of abused that privilege, but I found myself not minding Kuroo using one.

I caught the keys. “I’ll be fine.”

He smiled. “I’m sorry your family was without a car for most of the day.” 

“How much do I owe you?”

“But –”

“Dude, don’t even worry about it. It’s not a big deal – just a broken gas line. Hardly worth harassing you with an invoice. Just be gentle with her from now on, yeah? She’s not a spring chicken anymore.” His smile broadened and for some reason it didn’t sit right with me.

I nodded. “Thank you again.”

He waved. “See you later.”

I waited until the taillights were out of sight before climbing into the car and sitting in silence.

Their parents lived long distance?

That didn’t make any sense. The looks on their faces said something entirely different. The way they tensed. The way the air suddenly became thick and heavy with something unspoken.

I shook my head. Perhaps I was just overthinking things. It was none of my business.

I fumbled with the keys a bit trying to put them in the ignition, almost dropping them, when a loud shriek tore through the silence. My cellphone vibrated in the cup holder, displaying a string of numbers instead of a name.

Kichirou.

I couldn’t help but wonder why he was calling again when we had already talked. It wasn’t like him to call twice in a week, much less twice a month. Last night was the first time I’d heard from him in about a year. We kept in touch by sending sporadic emails that were quickly deleted to prevent our parents finding out, nothing too risky, until he had asked for my phone number and called me the very next day from a payphone.

I thought about just ignoring it. About changing my number and my email because how could he risk this?

But I couldn’t ignore him like our parents did. Like Katsuro did. Like Kazuki did.

I didn’t have it in me.

I missed him too much.

Conversations with Kichirou never lasted long. He would ask how I’m doing, how school was going, if I had made any friends or if I needed anything. Of course, I told him what he wanted to hear to quell his worries. But I was never very good at lying. And he always read me like an open book.

 _“Dad keeps pressuring you, doesn’t he?”_ he had asked last night. _“And I’m sure Katsuro make it any easier.”_

I had nodded even though I knew he couldn’t see me. Words had to be used sparingly, words I didn’t often have. And I sometimes found myself wishing he hadn’t run away so we wouldn’t be reduced to secrecy like this. I looked up to him. I still look up to him.

But now…

“It doesn’t,” I had finally said. And after a fleeting moment in the growing darkness, I asked him, “What do I do, Kichirou? I don’t – what am I supposed to do? Tell me what I need to do.”

 _“One more lap around the pool.”_ The smile in his voice was evident. And then he hung up.

One more lap.

Because if I didn’t keep swimming, I was going to drown.

And underwater, no one can hear you scream.

**

“Baby Keij is home!” Katsuro called out as soon as I entered the family room. He was lounging on the couch, flipping through one of the few magazines lying around the house.

I rolled my eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Keiji. I’m not a child.”

“You’ll always be my little brother, though.” The grin on his face widened to the point of mischief, and I was going to question him, until he started counting down. “3…2…1…”

Mother stormed out of the study, hair tossed up in a messy bun and wearing a dark purple robe. Her face burned with anger. “Akaashi Keiji, where have you been? I tried calling you six times! It’s way past dark! You know your curfew is 8:00 on a school night! I almost sent out a search and rescue party for you!”

“I’m sorry.” I lowered my head. I’d ignored those six phone calls. “I got distracted.”

“By what?” she demanded. “Did that employee hold you up?”

The fact that she immediately blamed Kuroo without even knowing him turned a knot in my stomach. “No, not at all. It was my fault.” I scratched my head. It wasn’t a lie. “I guess I lost track of time.”

Mother seemed to simmer down. “Got a lot on your mind?”

I nodded. Again, not a lie.

She hugged me. “What’re you thinking about? Have you decided?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, time is something that Dad doesn’t have a lot of, kiddo. I hope you realize that.” Katsuro was still sifting through the magazine, eyes fling across the pages. He clicked his tongue. “Though, I can’t imagine you saying no. Don’t want to let him down, do you? And if that’s not enough, think of the money you could make.”

Mother sighed. “Katsuro, please.”

“Mom.” He rested the magazine on his chest and looked at us with the cobalt blue eyes he inherited from our father. “You can’t coddle him forever. He has to start learning how to make his own decisions, and this – for better or worse – is a choice that’ll not only determine his future but others’ future health as well. You’re not just going to let this die away, are you, Keiji?”

There was a retort sharp on my tongue, but it faded when Mother interjected.

“Stop it, Katsuro. Your brother is doing infinitely better than you did at his age, so you’ve no room to be preaching to him about anything.”

That dark time in Katsuro’s life would never be forgotten. When he was 18 years old and coming home with a different girl every time Mother and Father left for their yearly mission trips. When he reeked of alcohol and acted coarse. When he strayed from the straight and narrow. I’d never seen Mother and Father so worried.

I was only 10 at the time. Kichirou was 11, and that put Kazuki at 16. None of us really understood what was happening when Mother and Father caught Katsuro coming home in the dead of night and left them both in tears and disappointment while he stood indifferent.

 _Don’t worry about it,_ Kazuki would say when Kichirou and I asked questions. _He’d ruffled our hair and smile. Go back to bed._

Katsuro had wandered but returned in the end. And I supposed that was where my parents’ love for Kichirou was drawn.

He wandered.

And he never came back.

Mother smiled at me. “Your father and I will be leaving very early in the morning, probably before you wake up, so I want you both to try and get along this week. I don’t want to come back and find this house in shambles.”

Katsuro moved towards me and hooked his arm uncomfortably around my neck. “Don’t worry, Mom! Keiji and I have everything under control.”

Mother pitched a small smile. “I know you a lot better than you think I do, Akaashi Katsuro. Goodnight, you two. Get some rest. Don’t stay up too late.”

As soon as she closed her bedroom door, Katsuro let me go and returned to his place on the couch, burying his nose back in the magazine. I was white noise now. A background ornament.

I went upstairs to my room, leaving him in the silence of our new house. And I let my mind wander back to the repair shop. Back to the phone call.

_“Kichirou? Is everything okay? You usually don’t call me this often.”_

_“What I can’t just chat with my little brother?”_

_“Well, yes, of course, but… Kichirou what’s going on?”_

He was quiet.

 

_**Wednesday – December 12, 2012** _

 

My alarm clock didn’t wake me up.

My brother did.

The curtains were drawn, and warm twilight poured onto my face. I sought shelter in my pillow, and I very nearly chucked it at his head. “What time is it?”

“Five,” he said. “Can’t sleep your life away, little brother. It’s such a beautiful evening.”

After school I came home and crashed out on my bed, too exhausted to deal with anything. Or anyone. And that “anyone” happened to be standing right in front of me. I groaned and finally gained enough gumption to sit up. He was so overbearing.

He ruffled my hair. “Get dressed. I’m about to start dinner. You in the mood for anything in particular? You like katsudon?”

“More or less.” I stretched my arms and swung my legs out from beneath the covers.

“Are you even hungry?”

“No, not really.” I moved about my room, grabbing sweatpants and a t-shirt from the drawer. “I’m going out for a run.”

“Well, don’t complain to Mom and Dad that I didn’t feed you,” he said before leaving.

I pulled on my clothes and laced up my tennis shoes, grabbing my jacket on my way out the door, and shuddered as I put it on. It was sunny all afternoon, and the once tightly packed snow succumbed under my feet, revealing the patch of sidewalk buried underneath. The evening was quiet but alive with birds and melting icicles. 

I wasn’t quite sure where I was going, but I started towards the center of town, focusing on keeping my breathing even and the sound of the crunching snow beneath my shoes. Shops were brimming with people when I passed by, and a few handed out small waves and smiles.

I often ran to relieve stress, hoping that feeling the wind blowing on my face and blasting in my ears would drown out everything in the place of what I really wanted. The short bursts of air in my lungs. The tightness in my chest. Tearing my body through wind. Drowning in a different way. 

This was the closest I’d ever get to flying above a volleyball net.

When I hit the two-mile marker I stopped to catch my breath, wiping some sweat from my brow.

“Yo! Akaashi!”

I turned to see Kuroo waving at me from the park across the street. Kei, with his unmistakable mop of golden hair, was traversing the jungle gym, looping his lithe body through the monkey bars. Kuroo called me over again, rather loudly might I add, and I made my way over to him.

“Hey!” He grinned and pat the empty space next to him on the bench.

I gave a small nod and sat down. “Hello.”

Kei was hanging upside down from the monkey bars by the legs. “Hi, Akaashi-san!”

I smiled. “Hello.”

He smacked me on the shoulder. “What’re you doing out here all by yourself? Going for a run?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Are you just enjoying some time at the park?”

“We come here every Saturday, but I got off work early so I figured I’d get Kei out of the house. Our parents did it, so why stop now?”

I clenched my fists. “Yesterday, about your parents, I’m very sorry. It wasn’t my place to ask, and –”

“Hey,” he said. His expression was filled with affirmation, but retained a particular amount of unmistakable softness and understanding. “I said it was fine, so it’s fine. No need to keep crying over spilled milk. You didn’t know.”

I was quiet.

“It’s not like Kei remembers what happened. He was only four.” Kuroo stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, slouching back. “He just knows that our parents... are no longer around.”

Oh.

_Oh._

By “long distance”, he meant…

“But hey, why am I troubling you with my sob story?” His face brightened with a grin that even a toddler could see through. “Did you decide on whether or not you’re going to try out for the volleyball team?”

Truthfully, it’d been the only thing on my mind as of late. To the point where I was up late looking at videos of the different setting and spiking techniques on the internet in the darkness of my room.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “But I’ve always thought it looked fun.”

Kuroo nodded and watched his brother dominate the monkey bars. “Then you’re gonna need to build up some muscle, Akaashi, my friend. Yeah, sure, you run but Kei could take you down at this point. Just doing cardio isn’t gonna do much good.”

I knew I wasn’t very athletic, I was lacking in the upper body strength department. Didn’t mean I had to like hearing about it. I crossed my arms. “Excuse me?” 

“No offense! I’m just being honest.” He smirked. “You’re kind of a toothpick, dude. A little bit of training and you’ll be golden.”

I sighed. “And where exactly am I going to find a trainer?”

“I’ll train you.”

My eyes widened. “You will?”

“Yeah, totally! I don’t play volleyball anymore since I’ve started working but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my touch. I hang out with my friend Bokuto at the gym when I have time. Kei’s taken up an interest in volleyball, haven’t you, kiddo?” 

Kei, obviously having not heard him, said, “Huh?”

Kuroo just smiled. “Nothing.” Then he turned back to me. “But yeah, I’ll totally help you. Is there a particular position you want to play?”

I picked at my nails for a bit. While I had watched countless volleyball videos demonstrating the basics of each volleyball position, I never actually got the chance to put that knowledge to use. I’d never set foot on a court. My parents didn’t let me play sports, I’d be away from home far too much for them to be even remotely comfortable with the idea.

And, like most decisions in my life, I didn’t know.

“I’m not sure,” I said.

“Well, we can figure that out when we start practicing,” Kuroo said. “We can use the gym after the swim team’s done. I’m sure Coach Takahashi can get me in.”

“Are you sure? You won’t get in trouble?”

“Nah, Coach is a real laidback guy. He won’t care.”

“Well, if you’re sure –”

Kuroo gave me a light punch on the shoulder. Or, well, what he considered light. He almost knocked me clean off the bench. “I’m your newfound trainer!”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

We watched Kei for a few moments, small talk buzzing between us, when I almost forgot to ask one of the most important questions.

“When do we start?”

“Oh.” He hummed for a minute in thought. “Is tomorrow too soon for you? The gym is free by 5:45, so does 6:00 work?”

Curfew on school nights was 8:00, and I’m sure they told Katsuro about it, but I didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to learn more about a sport I’ve been yearning to play for as long as I can remember. And as if he sensed my hesitation, Kuroo asked, “Do you need to be home by a certain time?”

I nodded. “My parents don’t like me out too late after dark.”

“Ah, they’re strict. Okay, well, two hours is definitely enough to get some decent practice in. And I’m not gonna run you ragged your first couple of weeks, I’m not a sadist. So we should be done by 7:00, 7:15 at the start before we start pushing it closer to 8:00. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.” I smiled, almost unable to contain my excitement.

“Oh, and I hope you’re a morning person.”

“Why do you say that?”

He grinned. “Just meet me here at 5:00 tomorrow morning.”

I was quiet.

Why did I have a bad feeling about this?


End file.
